FARMER    BIBBINS 


BY 


HYPKIN  BROWN 


BOSTON:   RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

TORONTO :  THE  COPP  CLARK  CO.,  LIMITED 


UNIV.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


Copyright,  1914,  by  Richard  G.  Badger 


All  Rights  Reserved 


THE  GORHAM  PRESS  BOSTON,  U.  S.  A. 


TO 
THE  FRIENDS  OF  MY  YOUTH 


2125665 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     The  Revolt  of  Fanny  B 9 

II     In  Which   a   Feather-Bed   Becomes   a 

Problem— Solved    24 

III  At  the  Willows 44 

IV  Chiefly  Speculative 50 

V     The  Visit  to  the  City 54 

VI     Chiefly  Talk 59 

VII     In  Which  "Bony"  Explodes  a  Bomb.  .  66 

VIII     News  of  the  Tramp 89 

IX     A   Chemical  Experiment    100 

X     Midnight   Mediation    115 

XI     "The  Bird"  Forgets 124 

XII     In  Which  Dr.  Gilbert  Mounts  Guard.  134 

XIII  The      Hospital      Receives      Another 

Patient    148 

XIV  The  Elder  Makes  a  Pastoral  Call.  .  .  154 
XV     Result  of  the  Pastoral  Call 166 

XVI     The  Peddler  Makes  a  Speech 187 

XVII     Three  Heads  Are  Better  Than  One.  .  191 

XVIII     Which  Concerns  Dr.  Gilbert 200 

XIX     "The  Bird"  Loses  Himself  Among  the 

Trees    211 

XX     Mose  Makes  Frances  a  Gift 220 

XXI     Mr.  Lowton's  Burial 233 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII  The  District  Attorney  Receives  a  Visit  246 

XXIII  In  Which  Mose  Breaks  His  Silence.  .  252 

XXIV  Matthew  Lowton  Speaks 272 

XXV  The  Exit  of  the  Elder 292 

XXVI  Mr.  Porter  Calls  on  His  Client 299 

XXVII  The  Dedication  of  the  Factory 308 

XXVIII  Mose  Settles  His  Account 315 


FARMER  BIBBINS 


FARMER  BIBBINS 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  REVOLT  OF  FANNY  B. 

IT  was  an  unusually  air-quiet,  hot  day.     In  fact  it 
was  the  quietest  and  hottest  of  many  quiet  hot 
days  of  that  particular  summer;  nor  could  Farmer 
Bibbins  recall  any  other  equalling  it  in  the  inten- 
sity of  either  characteristic,  during  the  sixteen  years  he 
had  occupied  his  present  home.    But  so  crisp  and  spark- 
ling was  the  atmosphere  in  spite  of  the  intense  heat 
that  little  discomfort  was  felt  by  those  working  in  the 
open.    It  was  only  when  Farmer  Bibbins  with  his  wife 
and  hired  men  entered  the  stable  for  the  evening  milk- 
ing, that  the  heat  and  its  result  became  almost  unendur- 
able. 

Within  the  building  there  were  sixty  cows  standing 
in  two  long  rows  facing  one  another  across  the  barn 
floor,  vitiating  the  air  by  their  breathing  and  sweltering 
bodies.  Yet  this  was  nothing  compared  with  the  pest 
of  flies  which,  like  the  sands  of  the  sea  in  number,  made 
life  a  burden  and  milking  a  punishment,  the  sweating 
cattle  had  attracted,  while  the  hot  sun  had  driven  them 
into  the  stable  in  great  number.  It  was  not  filth,  the 
usual  cause  of  their  prevalence  in  farm-yards,  for  there 
was  no  cleaner  yard  or  stable  in  Madran  town  than 
that  of  Farmer  Bibbins ;  nor  could  you  in  all  the  country 
round  have  found  a  neater  dairy-man.  Still  the  flies 
were  so  much  more  numerous  on  this  particular  occasion 
that  even  he,  with  all  his  native  patience,  found  great 
difficulty  in  keeping  his  usual  tranquility  of  spirit  with 
every  hoof  a-stamping  and  every  tail  a-switching  in  self- 
defence. 

Farmer  Bibbins  had  just  placed  his  three-legged  stool 

9 


io  FARMER  BIBBINS 

on  the  floor,  and  himself  on  the  stool  between  the  cow 
he  was  about  to  milk  and  the  one  his  wife  was  al- 
ready milking,  when  she  spoke; 

"Wood,  I  really  believe  Old  Spot  will  more  than  fill 
the  pail  to-night.  It's  already  brimming,  and  she  hasn't 
begun  to  let  up  yet.  You  take  my  pail  and  give  me 
yours,  will  you?  Then  I'll  not  have  to  move  until  I 
have  finished." 

"So,  confound  you!"  to  the  cow.  Then  to  his  wife; 
—"Sure,  Frances,  just  wait  a  second  'till  I  ease  off  a  bit 
on  Fanny  B."  (every  animal  of  Farmer  Bibbins  was 
duly  named.)  "Her  udder  is  painfully  hard  and  full. 
There,"  as  he  started  to  rise,  "Maybe  she  won't  be,— 
So !  confound  you,  so !  I  tell  you !  What's  the  matter 
with  you?  Didn't  you  ever  see  any  flies  before,  that  you 
can't  keep  that  tail  quiet  one  minute?"  he  shouted. 

"Here  you  are,  wife,  I'll  take  your  pail  and  that  full 
one  on  the  rack  and  empty  both  into  the  cooler." 

Farmer  Bibbins  soon  returned  to  finish  the  milking 
of  Fanny  B.  As  he  resumed  his  place  on  the  stool,  he 
asked,  of  no  one  in  particular;  —  "Did  you  ever  see  so 
many  flies?"  Receiving  no  answer,  he  gave  his  full  at- 
tention to  the  cow  for  she  was  again  showing  signs  of 
nervousness. 

"Now  then,  so-boss !  Just  keep  that  tail  out  of  my 
eyes,  will  you?  and  I'll  let  you  out  of  this  furnace  in 
less  than  no  time." 

He  was  proceeding  rapidly  when  the  dreaded  tail 
came  so  sharply  into  his  face  that  for  a  moment  he 
was  blinded. 

"So,  you  fool,"  he  bellowed  at  her,  "If  you  do  that 
again  I'll  just  about  burn  the  hair  clean  off  your  hide !" 

"Now  then,"  when  he  had  rubbed  the  smarting  from 
his  eyes,  "just  h'ist  that  foot,  and  let  me  get  at  you. 
There,"  complacently,  "Now,  so!  Dang  these  flies, 
they're  worse  than,—  The  comparison  remained  un- 


THE  REVOLT  OF  FANNY  B.  1 1 

spoken;  for  at  that  moment  Fanny  B.  suddenly  lurched 
forward,  then  when  well  braced  and  without  warning 
she  planted  her  hind  foot  on  the  belt-buckle  of  Farmer 
Bibbins,  and  Farmer  Bibbins  went  against  the  stable 
wall.  He  was  never  known  to  use  profanity  when  mad. 
He  sang:  When  he  sang,  those  compelled  to  listen 
thought  it  would  have  been  better  had  he  sought  relief 
through  the  usual  channels.  He  was  mad  now,  so  he 
sang;  sang  one  particular  line  of  no  particular  song;  — 

"Look  away  to  the  South!" 

He  never  sang  any  other  line  of  any  other  verse,  and 
it  was  the  prevailing  opinion  among  those  same  un- 
willing auditors  that  he  never  really  sang  this.  Thus 
before  he  had  righted  himself,  or  fully  regained  his 
breathing,  there  reverberated  through  the  building  a 
sound  not  unlike  the  near  rumble  of  broken  thunder  as 
he  sought  relief  of  mind  and  soul  in;— 

"Look  away  to  the  South!" 

With  a  few  repetitions  of  the  line,  mind  and  soul 
were  quieted.  He  patted  Fanny  B.  soothingly,  as  if 
she  had  conferred  a  favor  instead  of  a  hoof  upon  him, 
and  finished  milking  her  just  as  Frances  rose  from  her 
stool  and  her  last  cow. 

A  little  later  in  the  evening,  while  the  sun  was  still 
some  distance  above  the  horizon,  Farmer  Bibbins  was 
occupying  a  favorite  "St.  Regis"  splint-bottom  chair,— 
tilted  back  against  an  apple  tree  in  the  front  yard, — and 
enjoying  his  evening  smoke.  He  was  recalling  the 
struggles  of  those  earlier  days,  when  with  his  young 
wife  he  first  came  to  this  farm  but  recently  purchased 
by  him,  and  heavily  burdened  with  debt.  With  the 
recollection  of  those  days  of  toil,  in  which  she  had 
equally  shared  and  given  of  her  best  strength,  came  the 
thought  of  the  three  great  objects  toward  which  they 
had  resolutely  striven.  These  goals,  to  give  them  their 
accustomed  order  in  his  mind,  were;  the  liquidation  of 


12  FARMER  BIBBINS 

the  mortgage  on  the  farm;  the  erection  of  modern  up- 
to-date  buildings  for  the  housing  of  his  stock  and  pro- 
duce; and  the  establishment  of  a  butter  factory  near  the 
falls  in  the  little  river  crossing  his  land.  Here,  but  a 
few  rods  from  his  door,  was  a  splendid,  if  limited,  pow- 
er awaiting  development.  Here  also  was  the  one  ideal 
location  in  a  large  section  of  the  town  where  a  factory 
for  the  manufacture  of  dairy  products  could  be  built. 

By  good  fortune  the  first  two  goals  he  had  attained 
in  the  first  ten  years.  The  factory  was  still  but  a  dream. 
First  one  then  another  obstacle  had  intruded  itself  until 
five  years  had  given  of  their  harvests  and  added  to  his 
prosperity  without  a  tree  having  been  felled  or  a  stone 
hauled  as  a  beginning  toward  the  factory.  It  was  the 
one  great  need  of  the  community.  It  would  not  only 
supply  a  more  remunerative  market  for  their  milk,  but 
it  would  obviate  the  necessity  of  hauling  it  seven  or 
eight  miles  to  the  station.  The  saving  in  time  and  la- 
bor alone  would  add  a  considerable  profit  to  every  farm. 
But  the  farmers  for  reasons  known  only  to  themselves, 
or  for  no  reason  at  all,  purposely  handicapped  the  pro- 
ject by  refusing  to  sell  their  milk  to  Farmer  Bibbins. 

Their  attitude  in  the  matter  was  a  puzzle  to  him. 
With  but  few  exceptions  they  acknowledged  the  utility 
of  the  scheme;  and  then  with  no  exception  whatever  re- 
fused their  aid  in  making  it  possible. 

"What  is  the  reason?"  he  asked  himself  and  his  wife 
over  and  over,  "they  recognize  the  advantages,  but  re- 
fuse to  profit  by  them.  It  isn't  that  they  think  I  am  not 
responsible;  that's  all  poppy-cock,  for  they  know  that 
with  my  farm  and  the  bond  I  should  have  to  put  up, 
their  interests  would  be  fully  protected  in  case  of  my 
failure.  I  can  find  no  reason  for  their  turning  it  down 
so  generally." 

Of  course  he  could  see  nothing  tangible,  for  envy 
and  jealousy  are  intangible  and  never  visible.  Tangi- 


THE  REVOLT  OF  FANNY  B.  13 

ble  reasons  are  supported  by  facts,  but  jealousy  has  no 
fact  to  grasp;  when  it  has,  jealousy  ceases  and  either 
hatred  or  confidence  takes  its  place.  By  his  own  in- 
tegrity and  his  unswerving  trust  in  the  average  human, 
Farmer  Bibbins  was  blinded  to  the  great  objection 
harbored  by  his  otherwise  friendly  neighbors;  and  in 
turn  their  own  jealousy  blinded  them  to  the  real  motives 
actuating  him.  They  envied  him  his  prosperity, 
his  buildings,  his  stock,  his  splendidly  cultivated 
farm,  but  above  all  the  other  material  blessings, 
the  little  "North  Branch,"  which  when  the  rains 
failed  he  could  utilize  by  turning  its  waters  across  his 
sun-baked  fields  through  a  series  of  ditches.  Hence 
his  never  failing  prosperity. 

Then  too,  many  of  his  neighbors  were  burdened  with 
debts,— some  of  them  having  existed  since  long  before 
Bibbins  bought  his  farm.  Many  of  their  debts  had  in- 
creased while  Farmer  Bibbins  was  eliminating  his  and 
saving  his  money  to  put  out  at  interest.  Besides  this, 
he  had  purchased  more  land  from  the  adjoining  farms 
until  he  had  more  than  doubled  his  original  acreage. 
Thus  individual  success  has  always  been  the  cause  of  so- 
cial selfishness. 

Still  in  time  they  might  have  forgotten  these  evi- 
dences of  his  thrift  had  he  not  intensified  their  anti- 
pathy for  his  increasing  opulence  by  purchasing  one 
particular  farm  adjoining  his  own.  This  was  too  much 
for  human  nature,  as  personified  in  the  average  unsuc- 
cessful farmer,  to  endure.  If  nothing  interfered— so 
they  reasoned— and  nothing  could  interfere  once  they 
had  permitted  him  to  clutch  their  farms  through  his 
factory,  he  would  squeeze  them  dry  in  a  few  years. 
They  would  not  only  lose  their  present  market,  (for  the 
Station  must  close  if  Bibbins  bought  their  milk)  but 
their  independence,  their  homes,  their  farms,  in  fact 
all  that  made  them  independent  and  quite  the  equal  of 


14  FARMER  BIBBINS 

any  man,  Farmer  Bibbins  included,  if  by  any  means 
direct  or  indirect  they  should  assist  in  adding  to  his 
wealth. 

Thus  argued  Mr.  Lowton — Hogarth  Lowton— fre- 
quently called  "Hog,"  but  more  generally  "Bony"  in 
view  of  his  physical  qualification  for  the  title — as  he 
tramped  about  preaching  the  gospel  of  unselfishness  for 
Farmer  Bibbins  and  of  resistance  to  all  such  virtuous 
temptations  for  the  others.  However  he  did  not  think 
it  wise  to  tell  them  that  the  strength  of  his  argument 
was  born  of  personal  defeat;  that  the  particular  farm 
lately  purchased  by  his  thrifty  neighbor  was  the  bone 
of  his  contention  and  filled  with  the  marrow  of  his 
own  covetousness ;  that  for  years  he  had  waited  for 
an  opportunity  to  buy  it;  and  that  nothing  but  his  own 
shiftless  and  profitless  methods  of  farming  were  re- 
sponsible for  his  inability  to  do  so.  No;  never  would 
he  tell  them  that.  He  merely  warned  the  good  farmers 
in  that  part  of  Madran  (the  while  chewing  a  medita- 
tive straw)  that  unless  by  refusing  to  sell  their  milk  to 
Farmer  Bibbins  they  defeated  the  factory  scheme,  he 
would  in  a  few  years  own  every  good  farm  in  the  town- 
ship. And  as  Lowton  expressed  it,  that  was  enough 
to  put  the  "kibosh"  on  the  ambitious  plans  of  Farmer 
Bibbins  though  the  latter  never  so  much  as  heard  the 
text  of  this  oft-repeated  sermon.  Hence  his  misunder- 
standing of  the  great  objection  until  some  time  later. 

While  Farmer  Bibbins  sat  in  his  "St.  Regis"  chair 
and  the  light  of  the  waning  sun,  smoking  his  evening 
pipe  and  reviewing  the  past,  still  trying  to  fathom  the 
present  attitude  of  his  neighbors  with  reference  to  the 
factory,  two  of  those  same  neighbors  were  drawing 
rein — not  a  mile  distant  from  his  gate — for  a  little  road 
side  gossip,  the  effect  of  which  was  to  have  a  far-reach- 
ing result.  One  of  them  was  a  young  man  by  the  name 
of  Simmons;  Mr.  Bertrand  Simmons,  sometimes  called 


THE  REVOLT  OF  FANNY  B.  15 

"The  Bird"  for  short,  and  in  recognition  of  his  soaring 
eloquence;  the  other  was  Mr.  Hogarth  Lowton  him- 
self, chewing  a  favorite  brand  of  straw.  As  the  teams 
stopped,  bringing  the  men  abreast  of  each  other, 
"Bony"  without  other  acknowledgment  of  Mr.  Sim- 
mons' affable  greeting,  allowed  that;  — 

"The  kentry  needs  rain  purty  bad,  an'  'less  it  gits 
here  durn  soon  crops'll  be  rooned." 

"Wai,  a  leetle,  p'raps,  'nuff  to  settle  the  dust  wouldn' 
d'  no  harm,"  replied  Mr.  Simmons  before  further  com- 
plaint could  be  made.  The  season's  rainfall  had  been 
ample.  But  with  "Hog,"  (which  name  seemed  at  times 
more  fitting  even  than  "Bony")  the  "kentry"  always 
needed  more  rain  or  less,  according  to  the  particular 
barometrical  humidity  of  his  own  mood  at  the  moment. 

"Wai,  rain  or  no  rain,  Farmer  Bibbins'  crops  look 
purty  good,"  Mr.  Lowton  went  on.  "Doz  beat  the  ole 
scratch  how  he  allus  gits  good  crops  an'  works  no  hard- 
er nor  anybody  else.  Jes'  look  at  that  thar  fiel'  o' 
oats!". waving  his  arm  toward  a  portion  of  the  Bibbins 
farm,  which  by  the  way  was  a  part  of  the  land  recently 
purchased  which  "Bony"  had  so  long  coveted,  and 
where  thousands  of  bundles  of  oats  now  stood  in  long 
thick  rows  or  "stocks." 

"Thar's  sixty  bushels  to  the  aker  on  that  Ian'  and 
taint  no  better'n  mine,  and  I  won't  cut  thirty.  'T  jes' 
beats  me  all  holler,  haow  sum  folks'  get  along  in  this 
worl',  and  so  durn  stuckup  too  ye  can't  see  nothin'  but 
the  p'int  o'  thar  chins." 

.  Giving  but  slight  assent  to  the  views  of  Mr.  Lowton, 
for  The  Bird  was  fixing  himself  for  a  flight  in  philoso- 
phy which  would  make  "tother  sorter  look  up  sum,"  he 
replied— 

"Wai,  ye  see,  Bo— :Mr.  Lowton, — what  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  doz,  he  doz  a  leetle  different  frum  the  way  most  on 
us  doz  the  same  thin',— pervidin'  we  doz  't  'tall.  In 


16  FARMER  BIBBINS 

course  he  plows,  an'  drags,  an'  harrers,  like  the  rest  on 
us;  an'  with  plows,  an'  drags,  an'  harrers  like  ourn. 
An'  he  uses  m'noor  jes'  ez  we  doz,  an'  he  sows  an' 
plants  'bout  the  same  time  o'  year  too.  But  I've  sorter 
ben  watchin'  him  o'  late,  and  I  seen  when  he  plows  fer 
taters  he  cuts  the  sod  one  dep'f ;  an'  when  he  plows  fer 
oats,  he  cuts  'nuther  dep'f;  an'  fer  corn  still  another 
dep'f,  an'  so  on.  Then  he  don'  never  throw  the  m'noor 
roun'  haphazard  like  mos'  on  us  doz;  but  fer  one  crop 
he  plows  it  onder,  and  fer  'nother  he  spre'ds  it  on  top, 
an'  fer  'nother  berries  it  in  trenches,  an'  so  on  'cordin' 
t'  need.  An'  he  never  uses  't  'tall  'til  he's  reddy;  but 
keeps  't  under  cover  'till  he  wants  't  on  the  Ian'.  An' 
when  he's  reddy  t'  sow  or  plant,  he  don'  never  jes'  scat- 
ter the  seed  on  the  sod,  but  harrers  an'  drags  't  till  its 
ez  sof  ez  his  wife's  bes'  fether-bed;  an'  after  he's  sowed 
his  seed,  he  drags  an'  harrers  't  till  its  all  kuvered,  by 
gosh,  an'  don'  leave  't  on  top  fer  no  crow  bait.  Mebbe 
he  don't  work  no  harder  nor  enybody  else  doz,  (fact  is 
I  don't  think  he  nor  enybody  on  his  farm  works  ez 
hard  ez  the  rest  on  us)  but  I've  got  a  sort  o'  sneakin' 
idee  that  when  his  han's  er  holdin'  the  plow,  his  hed 
sorter  hoi's  his  han's  like;  and  when  he's  turnin'  over 
the  sod,  he's  sorter  turnin'  over  them  ideas  of  his'n  'bout 
the  same  time ;  an'  while  I  aint  nun  sure  fer  I  don  know 
nun;  but  Bo — Mr.  Lowton  —  I've  'bout  kenkluded  tho' 
that  when  he's  a  scatterin'  m'noor  enywhar  on  the  farm 
its  jest  'bout  like  him  to  be  spre'din'  some  uncommon 
sense  on  the  Ian'  't  'bout  the  same  time  an'  't  the  same 
rate.  No,  sirree,  B— Mister  Lowton,  here,  jes'  ye  wait, 
I  ain'  through  nun  yet  'zackly,"  as  the  other  man  tried 
to  interrupt  the  flow  of  philosophy  in  which  Mr.  Sim- 
mons was  taking  great  pride,— "Mebbe  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  don'  aught  t'  succeed  nun  more  'nothers,  ez  ye  say, 
who  don'  work  no  harder  'n  he  doz— I  mean  to  say 
who  work  jes'  hard— but  jes'  the  same  he  doz.  Nor 


THE  REVOLT  OF  FANNY  B.  17 

I  don't  b'leve  it's  all  luck  ner  speshul  Providence  nee- 
ther,— not  by  a  gol-dern  sight,  'nless  Providence  is  spe- 
shully  inclined-to-the-side-o'-idees  inst'd-o-tother- 

side,— which,"— The  Bird  was  fluttering.  "Mebbe — 
tis,  — arter  all,  fer-ye-see,  Ho— Mis— Bony."  He 
stopped. 

Whether  The  Bird  was  about  to  drop  into  the  depths 
of  perplexity  or  was  preparing  for  a  higher  course  and 
freer  movement  of  pinion  was  for  a  time  uncertain,  for 
the  wings  of  his  eloquence  became  slightly  tangled  in 
the  strands  of  a  newly  arrived  line  of  thought,  and  for 
a  time  things  looked  bewildered.  Recovering  him- 
self in  time  to  prevent  complete  disaster,  he  all  but 
soared  from  the  horizon  of  Mr.  Lowton's  intellectual 
vision,  for  the  latter  was  having  quite  as  much  trouble 
to  take  it  all  in  as  Mr.  Simmons  was  to  get  it  all  out. 
In  his  perplexity  of  mind,  which  was  as  profound  as  the 
other's  was  diverting,  Mr.  Lowton  opened  his  mouth 
as  if  to  speak,  and— dropped  his  straw !  Never  was  he 
a  ready  thinker  with  it,  but  without  the  inevitable  straw 
Mr.  Lowton  could  not  think  at  all. 

Gliding  down  to  an  altitude  that  was  safer  and  bet- 
ter adapted  to  his  mental  prowess,  but  still  holding  to 
the  line  of  thought  which  so  nearly  wrecked  them  both, 
The  Bird  resumed  rather  abruptly;  — 

"Taint  luck,  not  by  a  gol-dern  sight;  it's  jest  the  same 
kin'  o'  sense  which  God-O-Mighty  gin  the  hoss  t'  fin' 
his  way  home  agin,  when  his  driver's  too  gol-dern  drunk 
t'  know  't  hisself.  Farmer  Bibbins  may  hev'  a  lot  o' 
fool  noshuns  'bout  plowin'  an'  draggin'  an'  harrerin'  an' 
fertilizin'  an'  sech  thin's,  but  he  gits  the  crops  somehow, 
an'  we  don' ;  not  like  his'n,  enyway.  Now  jes'  take  that 
idee  o'  his'n  'bout  never  sowin'  this  year  on  yer  own 
Ian'  what  the  same  Ian'  riz  las'  year;  an'  never  razein' 
the  same  crops  twice  from  the  same  sile  an'  seed  'ith- 
out  changin'." 


i8  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Why  I  hearn  him  say  'tother  day  that  he  hasn't 
riz  his  own  seed  of  nary  kind  fer  years;  but  allus  buys 
't,  'nless  he  gits  a  chanct  t'  trade  'ith  sum  other  good 
farmer — mind  that  now,  'sum  other  good  farmer— 
an'  sells  what  he  don'  feed  out.  Now  them  two  leetle 
words,  'other  good'  sorter  opened  my  eyes  t'  a  real  fac'. 
He  recognizes  hisself  ez  a  good  farmer,  and  that's 
somethin',  Lowton,  jest  t'  sorter  recognize  yerself  fer 
what  ye  are.  That's  somethin'  t'  start  'ith.  An'  'mem- 
berin'  he  never  tried  very  hard  t'  trade  'ith  me,  er  eny- 
one  else— ye  fer  instance — 'round  here,  I  sorter  seen 
that  while  he  recognizes  us  as  feller  farmers,  an'  allus 
treats  us  far  an'  squar',he  jest  don't  put  us  in  his  own  or 
that  'other  good'  kin'  that  he'd  git  seed  from.  Nor  I 
didn't  lay  't  up  agin  him  neether;  fer  while  't  did  hit  sor- 
ter hard,  my  bein'  so  clost  like,  I  seen  twant  meant  fer 
nothin'  pussonal,  and  sed  nothin'.  But  I  seen  what  he 
wuz  a-drivin'  at  alright,  an'  sumers'  inside  o'  me  I 
sorter  thanked  him  fer  't  too.  For  why?  Coz  I  seen 
that  when  Farmer  Bibbins  or  any  'other  good'  farmer 
recognizes  fac's  an'  acts  on  'em  like  a  human  bein'  o' 
sense  that  that  same  God-O- Mighty  I  menshuned  back 
a  bit  recognizes  the  man  an'  acts  accordin' ;  an'  "  point- 
ing to  the  long  rows  of  bundled  oats  in  the  nearby 
field- 

"That  bars  me  out,  an'  proves  to  me  that  'f  ye  wan' 
t'  git  the  good  crops  of  that  'other  good'  kin'  ye  gotter 
use  good  plain  hoss  sense,  an'  do  somethin'  'sides  plow 
an'  drag  an'  harrer  an'  sow  seed — sure  ye  gotter  do  all 
that,  but  ye  gotter  do  suthin'  else— ye  gotter  do  't  right, 
at  the  right  time,  in  the  right  way,  and  use  the  right 
kin'  o'  seed,  or  else  that  same  God-O-Mighty  will  ketch 
ye  at 't  an'  act  'cordin'  t'  your  way,  jes'  the  same." 

"Bony"  was  manifesting  signs  of  uneasiness  during 
this  long  one-sided  conversation.  Not  liking  the  ideas 
of  the  younger  man  who  would  give  him  no  opportunity 


THE  REVOLT  OF  FANNY  B.  19 

to  put  in  a  word,  for  he  too  liked  to  talk,  he  was  about 
to  drive  on  when  The  Bird,  noticing  his  impatience, 
deliberately  moved  his  horse  so  that  until  one  or  the 
other  backed  away  neither  could  advance  for  the  front 
wheels  of  their  respective  "Democrats"  overlapped. 

"Wai,  mebbe  that  air  be  alright,  an'  then  again  meb- 
be  taint,  Mister  Simmons,"  said  the  old  man,  sarcas- 
tically using  the  Mister,  a  courtesy  he  seldom  used 
toward  those  younger  than  himself.  "Air  ye  threw  yet, 
Mister  Simmins?"  he  asked. 

"No,  I  aint,  not  jes'  yet,  I  wan'- 

"Never  ye  min'  what  ye  want;— I  want  suithin'  jest 
now,  an'  that  ez  t'  say  thet  I've  seen  more  farmin'  in 
my  life  nor  you'll  ever  see  in  yourn;  nor  Bibbins  nee- 
ther.  An'  what's  more  'nail  thet;  I  never  yet  seen  sech 
a  gol-dern  stuck  up  hog  as  he  ez,  for  thets  all  he  ez; 
jes'  a  reel  hog  rootin'  an'  nosin'  roun'  all  over  the  hull 
dumb  kentry  tryin'  ter  dig  up  suthin'  er  nother  in  the 
way  er  nuts  er  suthin'  thet  b'rights  b'longs  t'  sum'en 
else.  He's  on'y  wantin'  t'  build  that  air  fact'ry  jest  t' 
git  richer  offen  his  nabors'  farms  nor  he  can  offen  his 
own.  He's  gobbled  up  all  the  loose  Ian'  in  sight,"  (The 
Bird  almost  chirped  at  this)  "an'  now  he  wants  t'  grab 
the  profits  offen  our  milk.  But  I'll  see  him  in — " 

"HoP  on!  hoi'  on!  B  — Mister  Lowton,  don'  go  fer 
t'  git  riled.  Taint  nothin'  t'  git  mad  at.  Ye  know  jest 
ez  well  ez  I  do  that  he  don'  wan'  t'  do  no  sech  thin'," 
broke  in  Mr.  Simmons.  "He  jes'  wan's  t'  build  that 
air  factory  coz'  we  all  needs  it.  Yes,  ye  doz,  too,  need 
't;  an'  ye  needn't  go  off  half-cocked  coz  I'm  a-talkin' 
now." 

"Ye've  bin  talkin'  long  time  'ithout  sayin'  nothin 
new,"  Bony  interrupted. 

Young  Simmons  good  naturedly  gave  no  heed  to  this, 
but  continued;  — 

"Here  we  be  haulin'  our  milk  five  or  six  miles  t'  the 
Station  an'  gittin'  no  more  fer  't  than  what  Farmer  Bib- 


20  FARMER  BIBBINS 

bins  offers,  an'  not  so  much  considerin'.  But  what's  the 
use,"  disgustedly,  "You  an'  I  hev  talked  this  thin'  over 
a  dozen  times,— bin  at  it  fer  years  in  fac',  — an'  though 
ye  won't  'knowledge  nothin',  or  eny  of  the  others  nee- 
ther— I  wouldn't  onct  myself— but  after  alls  sed  an' 
dun,  its  jes'  spite  an'  nothin'  but  spite  thet  keeps  us 
from  doin'  what  he  wants  us  t'.  We've  allus  'lowed 
'twas  suthin'  else,  but  twant,  and  taint  now  neether; 
it's  jest  spite.  Say,  gol-dern  't  hoi'  on  a  minit;  didn't  *t 
ever  'cur  to  ye,  Mister  Lowton,  thet  we're  jes'  a  lot  o' 
dumb  fools?"  As  another  idea  came  to  him  with  great 
force,  "Here  we've  ben  lettin'  the  Co.  an'  all  on  'em 
strangers,  an'  their  Agent  over  to  the  Corners,  too  by 
gosh,  get  rich  offen  us,  an'  nary  holler  out'n  eny  one  of 
us !  Say,"  as  the  idea  grew  in  proportion  to  his  disgust; 
"Bo — Mister  Lowton,  I  wouldn't  gin  a  copper  cent  t' 
know  what  ye  nor  eny  o'  the  other  farmers,  who've  bin 
hangin'  back  jes'  threw  spite,  thinks  o'  him.  But  I'd 
gin  five  dollars  t'  know  what  he  thinks  o'  us,  an'  five 
more  jes'  t'  hear  him  sing  't  onct  in  that  song  o'  the 
South,  by  gosh !  Yes,"  ruminatively  as  he  backed  his 
team  away  from  the  other  wagon,  "I  kinder  guess  't 
orter  rain  sum,  Mister  Lowton — purty  good  an'  hard 
too,  but  brains,  Mister  Lowton,  jes'  good  clean  brains, 
inst'd  o'  water.  So  long;  I  gotter  git  home  'ith  this 
saleratus  er  I  won't  git  nary  biskit  fer  supper.  Nor 
the  milkin'  ain't  dun  neether." 

Mr.  Simmons  was  proud  of  his  conversational  pow- 
ers, though  at  the  time  of  his  marriage  a  few  years  be- 
fore to  Miss  Kanouts,  a  neighbor's  daughter,  he  was 
unable  to  sign  his  name.  But  his  wife  was  a  good  teach- 
er and  before  many  months  he  could  read  the  "Daily 
Times"  quite  well.  His  farm  was  located  on  the  stage- 
road  and  by  an  arrangement  with  the  stage-driver  he 
could  have  the  paper  delivered  every  day.  His  reason 
for  subscribing  for  this  particular  paper  was  two-fold; 


THE  REVOLT  OF  FANNY  B.  21 

it  gave  a  certain  eclat  to  his  standing  as  a  citizen  to 
have  the  agent  of  Uncle  Sam  stopping  daily  at  his  gate 
—which  luxury  few  of  his  neighbors  could  afford— 
and,  as  he  explained  to  Mrs.  Simmons;  "Ye  see,  Lista," 
(her  name  was  Calista)  '"f  I  don'  take  nothin'  but  a 
weekly,  I  won't  git  but  one  chanst  a  week  t'  practice 
readin',  coz  ye  see  a  weekly  comes  only  onct  a  week; 
but  'f  I  take  a  daily  then  I'll  git  six  chanctses  a  week 
instid  o'  one,  d'  ye  see?" 

"Yes,  I  see,  Bertie,"  she  replied,  her  eyes  a  twinkle. 
She  always  called  him  Bertie  because  the  childishness 
of  it  seemed  best  to  characterize  the  childlikeness  of 
her  big,  boyish  husband  whom  she  loved  devotedly,  for 
he  was  "a  man  for  'a  that."  Nicknamed  "The  Bird" 
by  his  friends,  because  of  his  habit  of  communing  with 
himself  and  those  other  efforts  at  lingual  flight  before 
mentioned,  made  it  seem  peculiarly  fitting.  Thus  when 
"The  Bird,"  Bert,  Bertie,  or  Bertrand,  which  ever  you 
please,  sprang  down  from  his  "Democrat"  wagon  at 
the  barn  door  upon  his  arrival  home  after  the  meeting 
with  "Hog,"  he  was  indulging  the  habit  of  self-com- 
munion with  characteristic  volubility. 

"It  jest  doz  beat  me,"  he  was  saying,  "how  all  these 
yere  gol-dern  fools,  sweeping  his  arm  inclusively  of  the 
whole  neighborhood,  "feels  toward  Farmer  Bibbins  and 
his  fact'ry  scheme.  They  jest  ez  soon  ez  not  let  them 
folks  they've  never  seen  get  rich  offen  their  milk,  but 
they  don'  want  him  to  make  nary  dollar  offen  them,  nor 
git  a  smell  o'  one  neether.  An'  all  jest  coz  he's  the  best 
farmer  an'  got  the  best  stock  an'  buildins',  an'  raises  the 
best  crops  in  the  hull  dumb  town  o'  Madran  they're  all 
bilin'  mad  with  jellosy.  He's  the  best  man  in  the  gol- 
dern  county  too;  never  did  a  man  dirt  yet;  an'  allus  a 
helpin'  enybody  from  the  nex'  best  citizen  down  to  the 
las'  busted  tramp  't  come  'long.  An'  he's  got  eddyca- 
shun,  by  gosh.  Bin  to  school  t'  Riverton  t'  the  'cademy, 


22  FARMER  BIBBINS 

an'  licked  the  hull  pack  on  'em  'cause  they  called  him 
Tanner  Bibbins,'  "  (the  recollection  made  him  laugh). 
"Well  lickin'  on  'em  didn't  do  eny  good,  coz  he's  got 
the  name  o'  Farmer  Bibbins  yet,  an'  proud  on't  too, 
I'll  bet  one  o'  Lista's  cookies,  jes'  ez  I'd  be  'f  my  name 
meant  the  best  farmer  in  the  hull  town." 

"An'  thar's  his  wife,"  as  he  led  the  horse  to  the 
stall,  "Say,  thar's  a  woman !  She's  got  a  right  to  wear 
skirts  alright  if  eny  female  hez.  Got  jest  ez  good  an 
eddycashun  ez  he  hez,  an'  no  one'd  ever  know  it,  eny 
more  than  they  doz  thet  he  hez,  'nless  they  both  on  'em 
makes  b'leve  t'  talk  like  the  rest  on  us,  ez  they  doz  sum- 
times,  then  't  shows  alright.  But  not  offen,"  he  added 
defensively,  "coz  they  tries  t'  be  same  ez  the  res'  o'  us 
angrykultoorists,"  rolling  the  letters  on  his  tongue  and 
wagging  his  head  in  emphasis  of  the  word  and  of  his 
opinion  of  them  also. 

"Taint  every  woman  'd  help  her  man  milk,  by  Gosh, 
with  a  big  farm  paid  fer,  an'  money  in  the  bank  b'sides. 
Mos'  on'  'em  wouldn't  stay  on  the  farm  over  night,  but 
'd  move  t'  the  village  an'  turn  up  their  dumb  noses 
every  time  they  seen  a  cow,  ez  'f  cows  hadn't  made 
'em." 

Then  starting  for  the  pasture  to  find  his  cattle,  he 
said  inquiringly, — 

"I  wonner  what  ole  Bony's  thinkin'  'bout?"  But  find- 
ing it  beyond  him  to  guess  aright,  he  touched  upon  what 
he  could.  "I  know  what  I'm  thinkin',  by  gosh,  an'  'at's 
'bout  helpin'  them  fool  farmers  t'  change  their  fool 
min's,  fer  Farmer  Bibbins  hez  gotter  hev  thet  fact'ry 
an'  I'm  goin'  t'  help  him  get  't  too,  by  gosh,  er  I'll  quit 
warbling !" 

Had  Mr.  Simmons  known  what  "Ole  Bony  was 
thinkin'  'bout,"  he  would  have  been  less  hasty  in  dis- 
missing the  subject  from  his  mind,  and  taking  up  with 
one  which  required  no  guessing  to  answer.  For  that 


THE  REVOLT  OF  FANNY  B.  23 

worthy  man,  Mr.  Lowton,  was  driving  away  from  the 
scene  of  the  late  conversation  deeply  immersed  in  the 
development  of  a  plan,  which  had  for  some  time  been 
lying  embryonic  in  his  breast — in  fact  ever  since  Farm- 
er Bibbins  had  secured  the  field  which  he,  Bony,  had 
so  much  desired. 


CHAPTER  II 

IN  WHICH  A  FEATHER-BED  BECOMES  A  PROBLEM- 
SOLVED 

MEANWHILE  Farmer  Bibbins  was  sitting 
on  the  old  "St.  Regis"  chair,  tilted  back 
against  the  apple-tree  and  in  the  light  of 
the  waning  sun  smoking  his  evening  pipe. 
Near  him,  on  the  front  veranda,  was  his  wife  reading 
aloud  from  the  weekly  paper  for  the  benefit  of  her 
lord,  (who  derived  no  benefit  whatever,  his  thought 
being  elsewhere)  and  two  of  the  hired  men  who  were 
lying  on  the  grass  between  the  lady  with  the  paper  and 
the  said  lord.  These  were  the  happiest  hours  of  the 
day  for  all  of  them,  and  they  were  enjoying  themselves 
in  fullest  measure  when  the  quick,  sharp  barking  of  a 
dog,  as  if  distressed,  followed  by  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  a  gaunt  fox-terrier  running  from  the  direction 
of  the  barn  brought  them  all,  except  Farmer  Bibbins, 
to  their  feet.  Stopping  at  the  tilted  chair  it  began  to 
whine  piteously.  For  perhaps  ten  seconds  it  looked  ap- 
pealingly  at  the  sitting  man,  and  then  with  one  more 
ear-splitting  yelp  it  turned  and  ran  back  to  the  barn. 

"Well,  I'll  be-Say?  Isn't  that  The  Prophet',  Mose 
dog?"  he  asked,  and  then;— 

"I  wonder  if  that  old  Jew  is  in  the  barn.  Say  Fran- 
ces?" as  art  idea  came  to  him, — "It  was  either  Mose  or 
that  dumb  dog  that  made  Fanny  B.  forget  who  was 
milking  her.  I  knew  all  the  time  she'd  never  lose  her 
manners  like  that  just  on  account  of  a  few  flies,"  and 
off  he  went  after  the  two  men  who  were  following  the 
dog  back  to  the  place  whence  he  came. 

At  the  barn  they  found  Mose,  a  Jewish  peddler  who 

24 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  25 

frequented  the  neighborhood  with  his  pack  and  dog, 
lying  on  some  hay  where  he  had  fallen  almost  by  the 
stanchion  over  which  was  printed  in  neat  black  letters 
on  a  board  fastened  to  the  upper  binder,  the  name 
"Fanny  B."  He  was  unconscious.  Above  the  left  ear  and 
just  back  of  it  was  a  long  ugly  gash  as  if  made  by  a 
blunt  instrument,  from  which  the  blood  was  still  oozing 
and  matting  his  hair  and  beard  into  a  stiff  dirt-be- 
gummed  mass.  Close  by,  but  nearer  the  pack  than  the 
wounded  man,  was  the  same  gaunt  fox-terrier  which 
had  summoned  them  to  the  barn.  The  dog  was  try- 
ing by  every  sign  in  the  manual  of  dogs  to  convey  a 
suitable  expression  of  his  gratitude;  emphasizing  the 
same  with  an  occasional  bark  and  the  wagging  of  his 
stumpy  tail  to  assure  them  that  his  joy  was  beyond  the 
mere  capacity  of  words;  and  at  the  same  time  faith- 
fully keeping  his  eye  on  the  peddler's  pack. 

To  Mrs.  Bibbins,  who  remained  where  she  was  sit- 
ting at  the  moment  of  interruption,  it  seemed  but  a 
second  since  their  departure  when  she  was  again  startled 
by  the  return  of  Charley,  one  of  the  young  men  to 
whom  she  had  been  reading,  who  exclaimed  excitedly, 

"It's  Mose,  and  the  boss  thinks  he's  dead." 

"Mose!  what  on  earth  is  Mose  doing  in  the  barn?" 
she  asked  without  realizing  that  the  boy  knew  no  more 
about  it  than  she  did  herself. 

"Don't  know;  he's  there  alright;  badly  hurt  too,  if 
not  dead.  And  the  boss  wants  you  to  send  the  whisky 
and  a  glass  quick." 

"You  get  down  that  old  cot  from  the  woodshed  loft, 
and  bring  it  to  the  barn.  I'll  take  the  whisky,"  and  by 
the  time  she  arrived  at  the  barn  she  was  the  absolute 
mistress  of  herself,  the  others,  and  the  situation  also. 

"Is  he  dead,  Wood?"  breathlessly,  for  she  had  been 
running. 

"Not  quite,  but  will  be  soon  unless  we  can  pour  some 


26  FARMER  BIBBINS 

of  that  whisky  down  him.  When  I  lift  him,  you  empty 
a  little  from  the  glass  into  his  mouth,  and  make  him 
swallow  it  if  you  have  to  hold  his  nose.  There,  that's 
good,"  as  the  effort  proved  successful.  "Now  the  rest 
of  it." 

He  laid  Mose  back  on  the  hay. 

"We'll  repeat  the  dose  in  a  few  minutes,"  straighten- 
ing up  and  looking  around— "Where's  Charley?"  he 
added. 

"Bringing  the  cot.  I  thought  we'd  better  get  him  to 
the  house  and  put  him  to  bed.  We  can  carry  him  on 
the  cot  without  hurting  him,  don't  you  think?" 

"You're  a  wonder,  Frances,  you  never  forget  the 
right  thing,"  Wood  said  proudly. 

Charley  returned  with  the  cot,  and  placing  it  at  the 
side  of  Mose  they  carefully  lifted  him  up  and  laid  him 
on  it. 

"Here,  Charley,  help  me  carry  him  to  a  cooler  spot 
if  we  can  find  one.  That  shadow  near  the  door  looks 
about  right.  There's  a  breeze  there  if  there's  one  any- 
where. Better  put  the  saddle  on  the  bay  mare,  boy, 
and  bring  Doc.  Gilbert  for  Mose  is  pretty  badly  hurt. 
He  may  die  anyway,  but  if  there  is  any  life  in  him  the 
Doc.  will  bring  him  to,"  he  continued  as  they  carried 
him  to  a  cooler  place. 

"Don't  you  think  we'd  better  take  him  to  the  house 
first  and  put  him  to  bed?"  Frances  put  in. 

"Sure,  wife,  that's  a  good  idea.  But  where  will  you 
put  him?  We  can't  carry  the  cot  upstairs  with  him  on 
it,  and  it  might  cost  what  little  life  he  has  left  to  do  it 
any  other  way." 

"We  can  put  him  in  the  parlor  bedroom,  can't  we?" 
she  inquired. 

It  was  lucky  for  the  injured  man  that  the  question 
was  asked  before  they  had  started  for  the  house  with 
him.  Farmer  Bibbins'  astonishment  was  so  great  he 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  27 

would  certainly  have  dropped  the  cot,  Mose,  and  all. 
He  looked  at  his  wife;— 

"The  parlor  bedroom!"  he  exclaimed,  then  paused. 
A  room  sacred  to  the  memory  of  but  very  few  was  the 
parlor  bedroom  with  its  mound  of  a  live-goose  feather- 
bed! Not  one  whit  more  sacred  to  the  Hebrews  was 
the  Holy  of  Holies  in  King  Solomon's  Temple  than 
was  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of  Frances  Bibbins'  home. 
Farmer  Bibbins  had  reason  for  staring,  which  he  con- 
tinued to  do.  While  he  softly  breathed  once  more,  as 
if  fearful  of  committing  sacrilege  by  speaking  aloud;  — 

"The  parlor-bed-room !" 

"Well,  what  are  you  waiting  for?  Isn't  it  good 
enough  for  a  peddler?" 

"Sure  it  is,  wife,  good  enough  for  two,"  as  if  that 
would  relieve  the  tension,  "Only  you  see,  Frances,  I 
was— well  you— that,  it — I  guess  you  didn't  mean  what 
you  said  about  a  peddler  and  its  being  good  enough; 
now  did  you?" 

"No,  I  didn't,"  she  retorted  rather  heatedly  to  cover 
her  emotion,  "I'd  put  his  dog  there  if  'twould  do  any 
good.  But  I  did  startle  you  now,  didn't  I  Wood,  by 
offering  that  room?" 

"No,"  he  lied  roundly,  "Not  a  bit,  I  was  expecting 
it." 

Mose  was  taken  to  the  parlor  bedroom,  and  Charley 
started  for  Dr.  Gilbert. 

"There,  that  ought  to  be  enough  whisky  if  he  doesn't 
use  it  regularly,"  Mrs.  Bibbins  advised  after  they  had 
repeated  the  quantity  and  the  operation  of  pouring  it 
down  him.  "The  doctor  will  be  here  in  an  hour  if 
Charley  finds  him,  and  he  might  not  approve  of  that 
much.  You  know  he  has  little  use  for  anything  of  that 
kind  for  sick  folks." 

She  bathed  the  injured  head,  removing  the  blood 
and  dirt  from  the  hair  and  beard  so  gently  that  it  would 


28  FARMER  BIBB1NS 

not  have  awakened  a  sleeping  child,  much  less  a  man 
who  was  nearly  dead  from  a  fractured  skull. 

"Poor  Mose,"  she  kept  saying,  "Poor,  poor,  home- 
less Mose.  One  would  never  dream  that  you  could  be- 
come so  weak  after  seeing  you  carry  that  big  pack," 
she  murmured,  quite  unconscious  that  her  husband  was 
near  enough  to  hear.  "I  wonder  what  his  head  could 
have  struck  on  the  barn-floor  to  cut  him  like  that?"  in- 
terrogatively. 

"He  never  got  that  from  falling,  wife,  I've  looked 
everywhere  on  the  barn-floor  but  there's  nothing.  Not 
even  the  manger-brace,  had  he  been  near  enough  to 
strike  it,  could  have  done  it.  He's  been  hit  with  a 
club  or  rod  or  stone  or  something  hard  to  get  that 
crack,"  in  explanation  of  the  injury.  "But  I  guess  if 
you'll  get  one  of  my  nightshirts,  we'd  better  put  him  to 
bed.  That  last  whisky  is  bringing  a  little  more  color  to 
his  cheek.  We'll  discuss  the  matter  of  his  getting  hurt 
later." 

"There,"  approvingly,  "If  he  doesn't  get  well  in  no 
time  in  that  bed,  beds  don't  count  in  curing  sick  folks 
that's  all.  There's  nothing  like  a  good  feather-bed  for 
comfort,  and  there's  not  another  bed  in  the  county  can 
equal  that  one,  for  I  picked  every  feather  myself  and 
there  isn't  one  in  it  that  didn't  grow  right  under  the 
wings  of  my  own  geese." 

Then  as  the  possibility  of  some  terrible  disaster  to 
that  particular  self-picked  treasure  dawned  upon  her, 
she  started; — 

"Wood,  did  you  notice  whether— he— ,  wore— you 
know;  when  you  undressed  him,  was  he  clean?  I'd 
hate  awfully  to  have  that  bed  spoiled." 

Wood  chuckled,  but  seeing  the  serious  expression  on 
his  wife's  face,  replied, 

"Clean  as  a  clover  blossom,  Frances,  you  never— I 
mean  I  never— saw  a  cleaner  man  than  Mose.  There 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  29 

isn't  a  speck  of  dirt  anywhere  on  him  except— 

"Except!  Except  where?"  she  asked,  frightened  at  a 
possible  desecration. 

"Except  where  you  washed  him,"  he  announced, 
laughing  at  her. 

Her  relief  was  so  great  that  the  inference  was  quite 
lost  upon  her;  she  only  sighed  with  satisfaction,  and 
then  began  making  the  room  tidy.  When  she  came  out 
into  the  kitchen  a  few  minutes  later,  where  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  was  filling  the  water-tank,  kettles,  pans,  and  pails, 
from  the  rain  cistern,  she  stopped,  and  for  a  moment 
so  great  was  her  surprise  she  could  hardly  speak. 

"What  on  earth  are  you  doing  that  for?"  she  asked 
him  when  her  tongue  was  loosed. 

"Doing  what  for?"  he  asked  bewilderedly. 

"Why  all  those  pans  and  kettles  of  water,"  she  ex- 
plained. 

"Dumbed  if  I  know,"  he  answered,  somewhat  em- 
barrassed. And  he  didn't,  neither  did  she,  though  doubt- 
less it  was  the  result  of  habit;  for  whenever  anything 
happened  on  the  Bibbins  farm  the  trouble  was  either 
drowned  in  kettles  of  hot  water,  or  washed  entirely 
away  with  the  same  element.  That  it  was  not  thought 
of  before,  was  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  injury  to  Mose 
was  so  serious  they  had  thought  only  of  him  and  of  how 
to  bring  him  back  to  consciousness. 

"Don't  you  think,  Frances,  I  better  bring  in  Mose's 
'dry-goods?'  some  one  might  steal  them,"  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  asked,  for  he  was  anxious  to  escape. 

"If  the  dog  will  let  you,  you  might;  but  I  don't  think 
he  will.  Look  out  he  doesn't  put  you  to  bed,  too,"  she 
advised  him  with  a  laugh. 

Farmer  Bibbins  went  for  the  "dry-goods,"  consisting 
chiefly  of  pins,  needles,  pencils,  jackknives,  mouth-or- 
gans, jews-harps,  razors,  shaving-soap,  hairpins,  combs, 
and  such  truck;  with  a  few  handkerchiefs,  cards  of  lace, 


30  FARMER  BIBBINS 

thread,  towels,  blazing  red  tablecloths,  and  a  large  as- 
sortment of  jewelry.  He  approached  the  dog  timidly 
but  much  to  his  surprise  was  greeted  with  every  mani- 
festation of  joy  of  which  The  Prophet  was  capable. 
With  a  "Come  on,  Prophet,"  he  took  up  the  bundle 
and  followed  by  the  trustful  dog,  carried  it  to  the  house. 

"Where'll  I  put  it,  wife?" 

But  the  dog,  who  seemed  to  understand  about  the 
parlor  bedroom  (probably  getting  the  scent  of  his  mas- 
ter's location)  suggested  the  place  by  quietly  going  to 
the  room  and  lying  down  under  the  bed. 

"Put  it  there,  Wood,"  she  answered,  watching  his 
face  for  a  further  look  of  surprise  but  unsuccessfully, 
as  she  pointed  to  The  Prophet.  "He's  watched  it  so 
long  he'll  give  us  no  peace  unless  he  has  it  in  sight,"  ex- 
cusing her  decision.  The  pack  was  given  to  the  terrier's 
keeping.  Then  before  he  could  comment  on  the  dispo- 
sition of  the  dog  and  bundle  she  told  him  to  open  both 
windows  while  she  found  some  mosquito  netting  which 
together  they  tacked  on  the  frames  to  keep  out  the  flies. 

"He's  breathing  pretty  good,  considering,"  Farmer 
bibbins  informed  his  wife  as  he  looked  closely  at  the 
Jew,  almost  buried  from  sight  in  the  depths  of  the 
feather-bed.  "Now  if  we've  done  everything  you  can 
think  of,  let's  go  out  in  front  and  wait  for  Doc." 

About  half  of  the  sun's  disk  was  visible  over  the  hills 
to  the  west  as  they  came  out  to  the  front  porch.  As  its 
lurid  light  fell  on  the  woman's  face,  the  man  saw  it  and 
stopped. 

"Good  Lord,  Frances,  but  you  are  beautiful,"  he  ex- 
claimed. And  she,  looking  up  at  his  eyes,  read  what 
was  written  there  for  her,  and  blushed  -"I'm  glad 
about  the  parlor  bedroom,  Wood,  if  you  are.  Poor 
homeless  Mose !" 

"It  isn't  that,  wife,  it's  you  and  what's  in  you,"  con- 
tinuing, "or  what  was  in  you,  for  its  pretty  well  out  now 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  31 

where  anyone  can  see  it.  Nor  is  that  just  what  I  mean 
either,"  reflecting  a  minute,  "I  mean  it's  still  in  you  all 
right,  but  it  does  show  through  mighty  plain." 

Turning  his  face  to  where  the  sun  was  rapidly  disap- 
pearing behind  old  "Ontario,"  he  added  thoughtfully; 
—  "It's  the  trouble  of  others,  and  not  one's  own  after 
all,  which  bring  out  the  best  there  is  in  a  woman." 

"I've  never  had  any  of  my  own  except  you,"  she  re- 
plied mischievously,  fondly  leaning  against  his  big  pow- 
erful body,  and  adding— "How  about  a  man?" 

"A  man?  Oh,  there's  nothing  like  that  in  any  man. 
At  least  not  those  that  I  know  anything  about.  If 
there  is,  it  isn't  trouble  that  brings  it  out;  not  when  I'm 
around.  Generally  it's  the  other  thing  that  shows.  Now 
you  didn't  see  anything  peculiar  showing  on  the  outside 
of  me,  did  you?" 

"No,  not  on  the  outside  I  didn't,"  meaningly. 

"Oh,  shucks !"  he  cried.  But  after  a  moment,  "I've 
always  thought  you  a  thoroughbred,  Frances,  I  suppose 
there  are  lots  of  other  women  nearly  as  good.  For  un- 
less there  are,  there  is  no  accounting  for  you,  for  you 
see  nothing  stands  entirely  alone.  I  never  saw  them 
quoted  in  any  of  the  catalogues  though  and  what  the  big 
catalogues  don't  list  isn't  worth  having." 

But  remembering  a  recent  experience,  he  concluded : 

"And  some  things  they  do,  aint.  I  guess  I'd  better 
take  another  look  at  Mose  before  lighting  my  pipe." 

"Yes,  you  better.  It  may  stop  your  worrying  about 
me,"  laughingly,  happy  in  his  praise.  "If  there's  an- 
other man  like  my  Farmer  Bibbins  I'll  bet  he'd  be 
mighty  hard  to  find,"  she  commented,  picking  up  the 
paper  and  laying  it  on  her  chair,  "And  the  woman 
worthy  of  him  harder  still,"  she  concluded  and  sat 
down. 

When  Dr.  Gilbert  arrived  a  little  later,  accompanied 
by  Charley,  who  had  cantered  along  at  the  side  or  rear 


32  FARMER  BIBBINS 

of  the  doctor's  gig  as  the  road  permitted,  he  said  "Good 
evening,"  to  the  farmer  and  his  wife  who  were  occupy- 
ing their  former  positions,  and  without  asking  a  ques- 
tion or  waiting  for  an  explanation,  walked  straight  into 
the  sick  man's  room. 

"Did  you  see  that,  Frances?"  Farmer  Bibbins  asked, 
springing  from  his  chair. 

"See  what,  Wood?" 

"Why  he  never  asked  'Where  is  he?'  but  pointed 
straight  for  the  parlor  bedroom." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"What  of  it?  Good  Lord!  What  of  it?  Can't  you 
see  that  he  knows  the  kind  of  woman  you  are  just  as 
well  as  I  do?  I've  always  known  he  was  the  greatest 
judge  of  sick  folks,  but  I  never  knew  before  he  was  so 
good  at  judging  folks  who  don't  need  no  pills."  (His 
discovery  interfering  a  little  with  his  grammar).  "Why 
he  wasn't  any  more  surprised  at  your  putting  Mose  in 
the  parlor  bedroom  than  I  was." 

And  she,  recalling  how  he  had  looked  at  her  when 
the  room  was  first  mentioned,  smiled  and  acknowledged 
that  he  might  possibly  be  right. 

"Right,  of  course  I'm  right,  and  so  is  Dr.  Gilbert  too, 
or  I'm  a  shoat." 

But  it  was  no  more  of  a  surprise  to  Farmer  Bibbins 
that  the  doctor  should  so  thoroughly  understand  his 
wife,  than  it  was  to  Dr.  Gilbert  when  a  little  while  be- 
fore Charley  had  burst  into  his  office,  shouting  in  his 
excitement — 

"They've  put  Mose  into  the  parlor  bedroom  and 
want  you  to  come  quick!" 

This  however  had  not  occurred  to  the  proud  husband 
of  Frances,  though  it  had  in  substance  to  the  equally 
proud  wife  of  Wood. 

For  some  time  Dr.  Gilbert,  who  had  learned  all  he 
could  from  Charley,  remained  alone  with  the  peddler 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  33 

critically  studying  his  wound  and  condition.  Finding 
him  exhausted  in  strength  and  near  complete  collapse, 
he  sat  down  to  study  another  problem  confronting  him 
in  the  form  of  a  billowing  feather  bed.  To  him  this 
was  the  more  urgent,  and  necessary  of  immediate  solu- 
tion. The  other— surgical  and  medical  treatment  of 
the  Jew— could  be  met  and  solved  by  science.  But  the 
feather  bed  !  Nothing  save  diplomacy  and  tact,  or  both, 
could  dispose  of  that.  He  was  familiar  with  Mrs.  Bib- 
bins'  one  weakness,  or  hobby,  and  knew  that  her  idea 
regarding  feather  beds  in  general  and  this  one  in  par- 
ticular, would  require  time  and  profound  thought  to 
overcome.  He  was  not  a  profane  man  ordinarily,  but 
if  his  knowledge  of  and  respect  for  the  woman  had  not 
instantly  protested,  a  stronger  expression  than  his — 

"Confound  that  feather  bed,  I've  got  to  get  rid  of 
it,"  would  have  escaped.  However  he  settled  on  what 
he  believed  would  prove  successful,  and  returned  to 
the  others  who  were  impatiently  awaiting  him.  Re- 
plying suavely  to  a  question  of  Mrs.  Bibbins,  he  said; 
"I  can  do  little  or  nothing  tonight,  in  addition  to  what 
you  have  already  done.  I  find  your  patient  as  comfort- 
able as  I  could  have  expected  from  what  your  man  told 
me,  though  his  condition  is  critical.  I  may  help  his  re- 
covery from  now  on,  though  that  is  doubtful,  but  what 
you  have  done  has  kept  life  in  him  for  the  present.  Can 
you  give  me  any  particulars,  Mr.  Bibbins?" 

"Not  much,  I  only  know  that  Mose  must  have  been 
conscious  at  about  five  o'clock,  the  time  when  he  proba- 
bly entered  the  barn,"  the  farmer  explained.  "We  were 
just  about  through  with  the  milking  when  something 
happened  to — " 

"What  was  that?"  Dr.  Gilbert  interrupted  quickly. 

"I  was  about  to  explain  when  you  broke  in,"  Wood 
smiled  at  the  recollection:  "I  was  just  beginning  with 
Fanny  B.,  she's  one  of  my  cows,  and  the  last  one  of  my 


34  FARMER  BIBBINS 

number  to  milk;  so  I  know  it  must  have  been  near  five, 
for  we  calculate  to  have  the  day's  work  end  at  that 
hour.  The  flies  were  pretty  thick  and  pestered  the  cat- 
tle more  than  usual,  so  I  wasn't  paying  much  attention 
to  anything  but  getting  through  and  away  from  them, 
when  that  dumb  critter  lurched  ahead  to  get  a  good 
brace,  and  then  placed  her  right  hind  foot  about  where 
my  belt  buckle  would  come,  and  me  against  the  side  of 
the  barn."  When  the  doctor  finished  laughing,  he  in- 
quired; 

"What  has  that  got  to  do  with  Mose  being  conscious 
at  five  o'clock?" 

"If  you'll  let  me  tell  you  without  so  much  buttin  in," 
Wood  replied  good  naturedly,  "maybe  you  too  will  ap- 
preciate it.  It  was  either  Mose  falling  on  the  hay,  (we 
found  him  right  in  front  of  Fanny  B.)  or  else  the  dog 
scared  her;  either  way  it  explains  why  Fanny  B.  forgot 
her  manners— and  what  happened  to  me;  at  the  time 
we  thought  it  was  the  flies  and  continued  thinking  so 
until  we  found  Mose.  The  chores  were  about  all  done 
for  the  evening,  and  nothing  occurring  to  take  us  on  the 
barn  floor  between  the  rows  of  stanchions,  we  knew 
nothing  of  what  had  happened  to  the  Jew  'till  his  dog 
came  running  and  barking  around  here  in  front  of  the 
house.  I  suppose  he,  'The  Prophet'  was  getting  dis- 
couraged waiting  for  some  of  us  to  come  to  him,  so  he 
came  for  us.  I  knew  the  moment  he  stopped  in  front 
of  me  and  whined  that  something  was  wrong.  So 
Charley,  Frank  and  I  followed  him  to  the  barn,  where 
we  found  the  peddler  lying  on  the  hay  in  front  of  Fanny 
B.'s  manger,  and  near  his  pack.  We  brought  Mose  to 
the  house  and  sent  for  you.  Then  I  brought  the  pack 
in,  the  dog  following;  he's  in  there  now  under  Mose's 
bed  lying  close  to  the  bundle.  Frances  gave  Mose  a 
little  whisky  a  couple  of  times  before  we  put  him  to 
bed;  that's  all— except  what  you  already  know,"  he 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  35 

concluded. 

"Yes,  that  is  all  except  that  Mrs.  Bibbins  carefully 
washed  the  blood  from  the  man's  face  and  hair,  skill- 
fully cleansing  the  'wound,'  "  and  the  doctor  smiled 
approvingly  of  her  work.  "Also  you  opened  the  win- 
dows and  tacked  some  new  netting  over  them;  and 
after  you  had  put  one  of  your  own  nightshirts  on  him, 
Farmer  Bibbins,  you  put  him  into  the  feather  bed." 

This  was  a  sort  of  feeler,  one  of  the  tentacles  of  his 
diplomacy  and  in  extending  it  he  watched  Mrs.  Bib- 
bins'  face. 

"Y~s,  I  put  one  of  my  shirts  on  him,  for  my  initials 
are  on  the  collar  where  Frances  worked  them;  but  I 
don't  see  how  you  know  the  other  two  facts  you  men- 
tioned—the netting  and  who  washed  him?"  And  he 
looked  his  perplexity  which  the  doctor  could  feel,  but 
not  see. 

"No  one  but  a  woman  of  kind  disposition  and  gentle 
manner"— there  was  no  evidence  of  intentional  flattery 
in  the  way  he  uttered  the  words  for  he  was  but  stating 
a  fact  which  all  who  knew  Frances  Bibbins  knew  to  be 
the  truth—"  could  have  cleansed  it  so  thoroughly  with- 
out doing  more  damage  than  good— and  I  assure  you 
it  was  all  good— unless  specially  trained  in  surgical 
nursing.  As  for  the  netting,  I  drove  by  here  this  after- 
noon and  there  was  none  on  those  windows  at  that 
time.  But  let  us  go  in  for  a  moment,  you  too  Mrs.  Bib- 
bins,  I  want  you  both." 

On  coming  into  the  sickroom  the  doctor  felt  the  pulse 
and  with  the  other  hand  lifted  the  lid  and  closely  scruti- 
nized the  sick  man's  eye. 

"He  is  a  little  stronger,  but  not  much,"  he  said.  "I 
have  left  two  powders  on  the  dresser,  one  of  which 
must  be  given  at  midnight  and  the  other  at  four  in  the 
morning.  I  will  also  leave  this  syringe  after  showing 
you,"  speaking  to  Farmer  Bibbins,  "how  to  use  it," 


36  FARMER  BIBBINS 

which  he  proceeded  to  do. 

"There,"  after  the  farmer  had  demonstrated  his 
ability  to  manipulate  the  little  instrument  properly, 
"that's  splendid.  You  will  use  that  only  upon  his  be- 
coming restless,  or  crying  with  pain." 

Turning  to  Mrs.  Bibbins  (he  was  now  to  solve  the 
problem  of  the  feather-bed)  he  asked:— 

"If  you  could  bring  a  little  more  of  the  whisky— no 
wait  a  moment,"  for  she  was  going  at  once,  delighted 
with  this  substantial  confirmation  of  their  previous  ef- 
forts,— 

"Let  me  fully  explain:  the  whisky  will  do  him  no 
harm  even  if  it  does  him  no  good,  though  I  am  sure  it 
will  help  if  I  can  get  it  down.  And  if  you,  Mr.  Bibbins, 
will  bring  a  pail  full  of  water  fresh  from  the  well  so 
that  it  will  be  ready  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged  to  you.  I 
may  need  it." 

Fortunately  for  the  doctor's  plan  the  well  was  some 
distance  from  the  house ;  still  more  so,  as  it  turned  out, 
that  Mrs.  Bibbins  had  forgotten  where  she  put  the  flask 
of  whisky  after  using  it  the  last  time,  for  it  gave  him 
time  to  systematize  his  plans. 

"If  I  can't  get  rid  of  that  d—  !  feather-bed  with  her 
assistance  and  full  approval,"  he  said  thoughtfully  to 
himself,  "I  shall  do  Mose  as  much  harm  by  taking  it 
away  from  him  as  I  would  by  permitting  him  to  swelter 
his  last  spark  of  vitality  away  by  lying  on  it.  He  might 
live  longer  without  the  second  than  without  the  first, 
but  without  both,  he  will,  with  his  rising  temperature 
die  within  the  next  forty-eight  hours.  What  he  needs 
now,  and  will  probably  for  many  weeks,  is  care,  atten- 
tion and  nursing.  Just  the  care,  attention  and  nursing 
that  this  woman  of  all  the  women  I  know  around  here 
can  give.  But— unless  I  am  able  to  remove  that  bed 
without  wounding  her  feelings  or  abating  her  womanly 
interest,  Mose  will  lose  the  gentleness  of  the  gentlest; 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  37 

the  kindness  of  the  kindest;  and  the  sympathy  of  the 
most  sympathetic  woman  that  God  ever  made  save  one, 
and  all  through  my  tactlessness  at  that." 

"Of  course,"  continuing— neither  of  the  others  hav- 
ing yet  returned,  "she  wouldn't  do  anything,  refuse 
anything,  or  neglect  anything,  wilfully  or  knowingly. 
But  she's  human,  mighty  human;  and  to  use  that  hu- 
manity with  all  its  tenderness  and  good  will  for  the 
good  of  Mose  in  the  most  humane  manner  possible  is 
the  only  thing  that  will  bring  him  back  to  this  world, 
'clothed  and  in  his  right  mind.'  I  dislike  such  secret 
tactics  with  a  woman  like  her,  but  to  make  her  feel  that 
she  is  Mose's  salvation  and  to  engrave  the  feeling  so 
deeply  into  her  heart  that  nothing  can  erase  it— not 
even  the  deposition  of  her  proud  idol  of  feathers— is 
only  to  make  her  feel  the  truth,  the  absolutely  irrevoca- 
ble truth,  and  that  cannot  be  very  unmanly  or  unworthy 
of  my  profession !" 

He  paused  a  moment  to  weigh  his  belief  in  the  scale 
of  right  and  honor.  Deciding  that  right  and  honor 
were  his,  in  his  determination,  he  resumed,  less  seri- 
ously;— 

"I  must  get  rid  of  the  bed,  that's  certain,  and  to- 
night too.  But  how?  that's  the  question.  Let's  see, 
what  was  that  formula  of  old  Professor  Dickerman's? 
Oh,  yes,  'Tact  well  diluted  with  diplomacy.'  I  will 
try  it,  and  invoke  the  daemon  of  the  great  master  who 
gave  it,  to  aid  in  its  success." 

Barely  was  the  decision  made,  when  Mrs.  Bibbins 
returned.  In  another  second  Farmer  Bibbins  brought 
a  pail  of  fresh  water. 

"Thank  you,"  as  she  handed  him  the  flask,  "Though 
I  want  this  water  for  another  purpose  I  think  if  we  di- 
lute the  whisky  with  a  little  of  it,  it  will  be  well." 

"Now  a  tub,  Mr.  Bibbins,  large  enough  to  hold  all 
this  water.  And  if  you  will  bring  a  couple  of  towels," 


38  FARMER  BIBBINS 

this  to  Mrs.  Bibbins,  "I  shall  be  quite  ready  for  them." 

He  had  the  glass  with  the  whisky  and  water  in  his 
hand  and  as  they  left  the  room,  he  approached  the  bed. 
The  instant  they  were  beyond  view,  he  quickly  drank 
the  whisky  and  with  a  wry  face  bent  over  the  patient  in 
the  attitude  of  pouring  something  into  the  sick  man's 
mouth. 

"There,"  he  exclaimed  to  Mrs.  Bibbins,  returning 
with  the  towels,  "That's  done,  and  as  I  said  when  mix- 
ing it  with  the  water,  it  will  do  him  no  harm  if  it  does 
him  no  good." 

Farmer  Bibbins  returned  with  a  large  tub  and  the 
three  were  standing  by  the  bed,  when  the  doctor  suave- 
ly spoke: 

"I  should  be  glad  for  your  sake,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  if 
Mose  could  be  removed  to  the  hospital  at  Riverton, 
thus  relieving  you  of  all  the  trouble  in  store  for  you  and 
your  household.  It  is  utterly  impossible  however,  for 
he  would  die  in  the  attempt.  There  is  a  small  piece  ot 
bone  pressing  upon  the  brain — a  very  serious  matter  to 
overcome  in  itself— but  besides  that  the  whole  brain  is 
suffering  from  a  violent  concussion.  By  the  way,  could 
he  have  fallen  against  anything  on  the  floor,  or  some  of 
the  stanchion  framework,  Mr.  Bibbins?" 

"I  don't  think  so,  for  I  looked  all  around,  but  found 
nothing,"  was  the  answer. 

"Then  he  must,  as  I  believe,  have  been  hurt  some 
time  before  and  after  lying  unconscious  for  a  time,  re- 
covered his  senses  and  strength  sufficiently  to  have 
reached  that  place  on  the  floor  near  Fanny  B.  before 
again  losing  them.  However,  we  will  see  into  that  lat- 
er. The  one  thing  now  is  to  keep  his  temperature  down 
as  near  normal  as  possible.  To  do  that  we  must  exer- 
cise the  greatest  precaution  to  prevent  any  violent 
change  in  his  physical  habits.  Can  you  inform  me  of 
them?" 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  39 

"We  know  nothing  except  that  when  he  was  here  he 
ate  and  drank  whatever  we  had,"  Mrs.  Bibbins  an- 
swered. "During  the  summer  months  he  slept  in  the 
barn,  preferring  to  sleep  where  his  dog  could  watch 
over  his  wares.  Most  people  don't  care  to  have  a 
strange  dog  in  the  house  nights,  you  know;  so  Mose 
slept  where  the  dog  could  be  with  him.  He  carried  quite 
an  assortment  of  jewelry,  and  after  being  robbed  once  or 
twice  he  got  the  dog  and  trained  him  to  guard  the  pack 
night  and  day.  I  don't  believe  any  one  else  ever 
touched  Mose's  bundle  till  Wood  brought  it  from  the 
barn  to-night;  and  I  know  his  dog  was  never  in  the 
house  before,  unless  it  was  the  kitchen,  for  in  the  cold 
weather  the  dog  staid  in  the  woodshed  while  Mose 
slept  in  Charley's  room  in  another  bed.  That's  all  I 
can  tell  you.  Can  you  add  anything,  Wood?" 

"No,  nothing." 

"Well,  that  may  be  the  very  way  of  saving  Mose." 
The  doctor  was  delighted.  "He  has  been  used  to  sleep- 
ing in  barns  on  hay,  has  he?"  he  said,  apparently 
weighing  the  matter  with  great  care.  "Well,  now,  lets 
see!  This  beautiful  cosy  room  will  be  a  bewildering 
change  from  a  big  drafty  barn  and  this  lovely  soft 
bed  a  greater  change  from  a  bed  of  coarse  hay  or  straw 
than  the  room.  It  is,  certainly,  a  tremendous  change 
for  Mose,  a  violent—  why,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  that's  the 
very  thing  we  were  speaking  about,  violent  changes. 
And  here  we  have  Mose  in  the  finest  room  and  the  soft- 
est bed  in  Jefferson  County  after  months  of  sleeping  on 
haymows  and  in  barns  a  hundred  feet  long  and  forty 
feet  wide,  with  half  the  boards  off  and  few  of  the  shing- 
les on.  I'm  very  much  afraid  Mrs.  Bibbins  that  your 
great  kindness  is  going  to  be  Mose's  worst  enemy  for  a 
few  weeks,  if  he  lives  at  all." 

The  doctor  was  exceedingly  grave  now,  and  while  he 
hated  to  put  it  so  strongly  to  the  kind  woman,  he  must 


40  FARMER  BIBBINS 

win  her  to  his  idea,  or  lose  Mose. 

"What  do  you  mean,  doctor?  You  certainly  don't 
think  for  a  minute  that  I  will  not  do  all  I  can,  or  Wood 
either,  for  Mose,  whom  we  both  have  always  liked  so 
well?" 

"No!  No!  My  dear  Frances:  You  remember  I  was 
just  speaking  about  precaution  against  violent  change 
in  his  habits,  and  here  I  am  permitting  him  to  lie  on  a 
bed  with  no  peer  in  the  town  and  in  a  room  equal  to 
any  out  of  it.  Mrs.  Bibbins,  I'm  only  a  cheap  horse 
doctor  after  all." 

Farmer  Bibbins  was  standing  near  taking  in  the 
doctor's  conversation;  (the  doctor  too,  for  that  mat- 
ter,) and  as  the  drift  of  it  began  to  dawn  upon  him, 
his  already  exalted  opinion  of  that  man  of  medicine 
took  on  new  altitude.  He  all  but  laughed  outright  at 
the  kindly  manuevering  of  the  physician  to  save  his 
wife  the  pangs  of  disappointment  on  the  heels  of  her 
unavailing  sacrifice.  Seeing  his  opportunity  to  save 
them  both,  he  entered  the  lists : 

"In  that  case  Doc,  it's  very  easily  remedied;  if  you 
want  him  taken  to  the  haymow,  to  the  barn  he  goes." 

"No,  no,  Wood,  you  can't  mean  it.  Send  Mose  to 
the  barn?  Never!  We'll  just  remove  the  feather  bed. 
I  guess  the  doctor  won't  object  to  the  room,  will  you 
Do — "  She  stopped.  Dr.  Gilbert  was  facing  the  door, 
his  back  toward  her,  and  her  husband  was  pounding 
him  on  the  back  with  his  big  hand  exclaiming: 

"Doc!  You  old  humbug.  If  Frances  don't  kiss  you 
for  your  efforts  she  will  for  your  intentions,  though  you 
are  a  great,  big,  thickheaded,  pill  making  horse  doc- 
tor!" and  both  roared  with  laughter.  When  the  doctor 
had  sufficiently  recovered  himself,  he  turned  to  Mrs. 
Bibbins. 

"Can  you  forgive  me,  Frances  Bibbins?"  he  asked. 

"Yes  I  can,  and  kiss  you  too,"  impulsively,  which  she 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  41 

did  before  he  could  have  prevented  her,  had  he  so  de- 
sired. 

"Now  Dr.  Gilbert,"  when  the  bed  was  off  and  Mose 
was  lying  on  a  clean  straw-filled  tick,  "what  was  the 
matter  with  that  feather-bed?  I  really  do  not  yet  un- 
derstand." 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Bibbins,"  he  said  gravely,  "there  is 
nothing  in  the  world  the  matter  with  the  bed.  But  to 
keep  Mose  with  a  high  temperature  in  a  bed  that  would 
naturally  increase  the  fever  already  fairly  parching 
his  tissues  would  be  disastrous.  I  was  certain  you  were 
not  familiar  with  the  fact,  and  I  was  fearful  of  hurting 
you  when  you  were  doing  so  much.  I  will  be  still  more 
frank  with  you.  In  all  candor  and  sincerity  I  would 
rather  have  Mose  in  this  room  under  your  care,  now," 
and  his  eyes  twinkled  with  merriment,  "that  you  have 
behaved  so  splendidly,  than  in  any  hospital  in  the 
state,  under  the  care  of  strangers.  The  attitude  you 
will  unconsciously  assume  toward  him,  because  you 
know  and  like  him,  will  have  a  far  greater  effect  upon 
him  and  his  recovery  than  either  medicine  or  medical 
attention.  To  have  hurt  or  disappointed  you  at  the 
very  beginning  would  have  unconsciously,  on  your  part, 
disturbed  that  attitude  in  a  large  degree,  because  you 
are  human  and  humanity  is  always  at  its  best  or  worst, 
as  the  case  may  be,  when  unconscious  of  its  attitude!" 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  which  he,  like  a  gentle- 
man of  the  old  school,  raised  to  his  lips. 

"Thank  you,  Dr.  Gilbert,"  she  said  simply.  Farmer 
Bibbins  completed  the  triangular  circle  and  confirmed 
the  compact  by  clasping  a  hand  of  each  in  his  own,  say- 
ing: 

"Doc,  you're  the  biggest  humbug  on  earth,  but  we'll 
do  it,  if  you  can  forget  the  chief  end  of  your  calling. 
Now,"  looking  around,  "I  want  to  know  what's  to  be 
done  with  that  water?  It's  so  stale  by  this  time,  it's 


42  FARMER  BIBBINS 

full  of  tadpoles,  I'll  bet." 

"The  water?  Pail  of  water?  Oh!  Nothing  now." 
Then  looking  at  Mrs.  Bibbins,  who  was  questioning 
him  with  her  eyes,  "You  won't  mind?  Sure?"  as  if 
fearing  she  didn't  mean  it.  "Alright;  I  was  going  to 
find  a  way  of  spilling  it  into  the  feather  bed  if  neces- 
sary; then  there  would  have  been  no  question  about  its 
removal,"  and  they  laughed  heartily  over  the  scheme 
and  its  defeat. 

"But  the  towels,  you  didn't  intend  drying  the  bed 
with  them,  did  you  ?"  she  mischievously  asked. 

"No,  but  I  did  Mose,"  and  again  they  laughed. 

"I  must  leave  you  now,  but  I  will  return  by  eight  in 
the  morning,  and  will  then  decide  if  an  operation  will 
be  necessary.  However  it  will  be  a  simple  matter; 
nothing  but  trepanning  the  skull  to  remove  the  splinter 
of  bone  which  is  pressing  on  the  brain. 

"You'd  better  stay  all  night,  Doc"  invitingly,  from 
Farmer  Bibbins. 

"Yes,  do,"  his  wife  added. 

"Impossible,  thank  you  both,  however,  and  you,  es- 
pecially Mrs.  Bibbins." 

"Call  me  Frances,"  said  she,  "Wood  won't  mind, 
will  you  Wood?  No  one  ever  calls  me  by  my  name  ex- 
cept Wood  and  I  like  it." 

"All  right,  Frances.  Thank  you  for  all  you  have 
done  and  will  do.  Goodnight.  No,  don't  come.  Char- 
ley will  bring  my  horse,"  and  he  went  out. 

"Charles,  I  want  you  to  keep  your  eyes  open  for  the 
next  few  days.  When  I  have  time  I  will  explain  fully. 
Watch  out  for  strangers  and  think  over  all  the  men 
you  know,  who  knew  Mose.  Find  out  if  you  can  if  he 
had  any  enemies,  and  see  how  many  left-handed  men 
you  can  find  among  those  you  are  sure  were  acquainted 
with  that  poor  old  fellow  in  the  best  parlor  bed-room, 
will  you  Charles?  You  may  learn  of  some  one  outside 


A  FEATHER-BED  PROBLEM  43 

of  your  own  present  circle  of  acquaintances.  But  keep 
track  of  them  no  matter  where  you  find  them,  and  tell 
me  all  you  find  out.  Don't  forget,  Charles,  and  I  won't 
forget  you. 

"When  the  time  comes  that  you  have  something  to 
tell  me,  you  just  say— 'Doc,  meet  me  at  The  Willows,' 
you  understand,  down  there,"  and  Dr.  Gilbert  pointed 
toward  a  clump  of  willows  by  the  road  a  short  distance 
from  the  Bibbins  place. 

"Yes,  sir,  I  understand,  and  I'll  not  forget." 

"Thank  you,  Charles.     Goodnight." 

"Goodnight,  sir."    The  doctor  drove  rapidly  away. 


CHAPTER  III 
AT  THE  WILLOWS 

WHEN  they  met  a  week  later,  at  the  Wil- 
lows, Dr.  Gilbert  addressed  the  boy,  con- 
fidence showing  in  his  tone. 
"Charles,  you  know  I  have  a  very  high 
opinion  of  your  friends,  but  no  higher  than  I  have  of 
you.  Mr.  Bibbins  has  often  spoken  of  your  studying 
nights  and  what  a  great  reader  you  are.  Now  before 
asking  you  for  your  confidence,  and  be  assured  that  I 
will  keep  it  inviolate,  permit  me  to  give  you  mine.  Mose 
is  in  a  very  serious  condition,"  he  went  on,  "and  may 
never  recover.  When  or  how  he  was  hurt  none  of  us 
know.  I  am  positive  that  it  was  some  time  before  he 
entered  your  barn  at  five  o'clock  that  day,  if  as  Mr. 
Bibbins  informs  me  from  what  happened  to  him,  that 
that  was  the  time  of  his  entrance.  But  Charles  I  am 
not  certain  of  that,  nor  am  I  certain  that  Mose  carried 
his  own  pack  into  the  barn,  unless  he  did  so  before  he 
received  that  broken  skull.  I  have  not  said  this  to 
Mr.  Bibbins  nor  to  his  wife,  for  I  have  no  desire  to 
worry  either  of  them.  You  it  will  not  worry,  for  the 
responsibility  is  not  so  great  in  your  case,  though  I'm 
sure  you  share  it." 

"Now  Charles,  give  me  your  full  attention.  If  Mose 
carried  his  own  pack  into  your  barn,  he  was  struck  after 
doing  so;  if  he  was  hurt  before  entering,  then  some 
other  person  carried  the  bundle  in  and  left  it  as  a  blind; 
for  no  man  could  have  borne  that  weight  one  foot  or 
one  second  with  a  broken  skull  like  his.  Do  you  under 
stand,  Charles?" 
"I  think  I  do  sir." 

44 


AT  THE  WILLOWS  45 

"Very  good.  Then  you  will  understand  this?  Mose 
was  struck  from  behind,  with  a  short  iron  bar  about  an 
inch  in  diameter,  and  by  a  tall,  powerful,  left-handed 
man." 

"I  don't  think  I  do  understand  that,  sir." 

"Let  me  explain  it  to  you.  I  know  it  was  a  tall,  left- 
handed  man,  Charles,  by  this:  having  been  delivered 
from  the  rear  the  blow  came  in  contact  with  the  left 
side  of  Mose's  head  and  from  above  the  pack,  high  on 
his  back,  which  could  not  have  been  had  the  one  who 
struck  it  been  right  handed  or  short  of  body.  Just  im- 
agine me  standing  back  of  you  there  and  striking  at 
your  head,  which  side— I  am  right-handed—would  I 
aim  at?  The  right  side  of  course;  you  see,  don't  you?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  think  I  understand  all  you  have  ex- 
plained ;  though  I  don't  see  how  you  figured  it  all  out  so 
clearly." 

"Never  mind  that;  I  have  and  I  am  positive  that  I 
am  right.  Now  you  have  my  full  confidence  Charles; 
will  you  give  me  yours?  I  could  have  said  all  this  to 
Mr.  Bibbins,  but  thought  best  not  to  worry  him.  Then 
too,  I  know  you  are  about  the  neighborhood  more  than 
he  is  and  that  is  why  I  asked  you,  the  first  night  I  came 
to  see  Mose,  to  keep  your  eyes  open.  I  knew  that  you 
would  see  and  hear  more  than  Mr.  Bibbins.  So  I  have 
come  to  you  to-night,  Charles.  Will  you  help  your 
friends,  Mose  and  me,  at  the  same  time?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I'll  do  my  best,  and  answer  any  question 
you  may  ask,  if  I  can,  and  I  am  sure  I  can  answer  some 
of  them." 

"Thank  you,  Charles,  I  shall  ask  but  few.  First; 
do  you  know  everyone  in  this  community  for,  say,  a 
radius  of  five  miles?" 

"Yes,  for  ten,  and  nearly  every  one  for  twenty." 

"Good,  how  long  have  you  been  with  Bibbins?" 

"About  five  years,  since  I  was  fourteen." 


46  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Splendid,  any  man  who  remains  five  years  with 
Wood  Bibbins  has  got  the  right  material  in  him." 

"Thank  you  sir." 

"Have  you,  within  the  last  ten  days,  seen  any  strang- 
ers, tramps  or  suspicious  acting  persons  around  here?" 

"No,  sir,  not  exactly." 

"Heard  of  any?" 

"No,  not  for  several  weeks,  except  one  tramp  who 
has  been  working  a  week  or  so  for  Mr.  Kendall  on  the 
crossroads." 

"Have  you  seen  him?  Is  he  tall  and  powerfully 
built?" 

"Yes,  at  the  milk  station  at  Adams  Corners;  he  took 
the  milk  once  or  twice  for  Mr.  Kendall.  He  is  quite 
tall  and  very  strong,  to  answer  your  second  question." 

"Did  you  see  him  doing  anything?  Using  his  hands 
in  any  way?" 

"Yes  sir." 

"Was  he  left-handed?" 

"I  don't  like  to  say." 

"Alright  you  needn't  say  it.  But  tell  me;  how  did 
you  come  to  notice  anything  about  the  way  he  used  his 
hands?" 

"Well  he  always  took  the  empties  back  with  his  left 
hand,"  Charles  replied.  "And  one  morning  when  I 
was  late  and  met  him  coming  back  he  held  the  reins  in 
his  right  hand  and  the  whip  in  his  left." 

"How  did  you  come  to  observe  him  so  closely, 
Charles,  on  that  particular  morning?" 

"Well  he  stopped  me,  and  inquired  about  the  county 
and  the  people;  asked  who  I  was  and  said  he  would 
like  to  become  better  acquainted  as  he  had  been  a  sort 
of  wanderer  and  was  trying  to  make  good;  though  he 
laughed  about  it.  He  said  he  found  it  pretty  lonesome 
not  knowing  anyone  in  the  neighborhood,  and  asked  if 
I  would  object  if  he  came  over  to  see  me  some  evening. 


AT  THE  WILLOWS  47 

I  wasn't  sure  whether  I  would  or  not  'till  I  saw  him 
reach  out  with  the  whip  and  brush  the  flies  from  the 
back  of  one  of  my  horses.  After  that  I  saw  him  do  it 
several  times  to  his  own  and  two  or  three  times  to  mine. 
He  was  so  easy  and  careful  not  to  annoy  the  horses  I 
couldn't  help  but  like  the  fellow,  for  I  was  sure  he  did 
it  quite  unconsciously.  He  did  it  with  his  left  hand  al- 
right, I  know  for  I  noticed  the  tattooing  on  the  back  of 
it." 

"Charles,"  and  there  was  genuine  admiration  in  the 
doctor's  voice,  "I  am  mighty  glad  our  interests  led  us 
to  this  place  and  conversation.  I  am  proud  of  you.  No 
wonder  Farmer  Bibbins  likes  you  and  hopes  to  see  you 
secure  an  education.  I  do  myself,  and  not  only  that,  my 
boy,  but  when  you  are  ready  I  am;  I'll  see  you  through 
if  you  need  help.  But  I  must  be  on  my  way  after  one 
or  two  more  questions.  Do  you  know  any  other  left- 
handed  man  in  this  neighborhood?" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  do,  but  would  rather  not  mention  any 
more  names,  now." 

"All  right  Charles,  I  won't  ask  you.  This  is  my  last 
question;  do  you  know  whether  Mose  has  an  enemy  or 
enemies  from  any  cause,  sharp  dealing,  or  fraud,  or  any 
other  reason,  among  your  neighbors?" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  do;  but  I'm  sorry  doctor,  for  I'd  rather 
not  answer  that  either.  I  will  say  this  though,  that  it 
was  not  Mose's  fault,  as  I  understand  the  trouble.  This 
person  tried  to  borrow  money  from  the  peddler,  and 
was  mad  and  threatened  him  because  he  wouldn't  lend 
it." 

"That  is  all  Charles.  Remember  this  must  remain 
between  us  two  alone.  Goodnight,  and  thank  you." 

When  Charles  a  few  minutes  later  went  quietly  up 
to  bed,  he  was  the  proudest  youth  in  the  town,  not  only 
because  he  had  been  exchanging  confidences  with  the 
town's  most  popular  citizen,  but  because  that  citizen 


48  FARMER  BIBBINS 

had  given  him  the  greatest  encouragement  he  had  ever 
received  to  continue  his  studies.  At  the  same  time  the 
doctor  was  slowly  proceeding  along  the  Madran  road, 
trying  to  place  one  of  the  two  men— each  of  whom  was, 
as  he  believed,  unknown  to  him,  but  known  to  Charles ; 
one  of  whom  disliked  the  Jew  because  of  an  unsuccess- 
ful effort  to  borrow  money  and  the  other— or  was  it  the 
same  person?  No,  decidedly  not  the  same  person.  For 
while  each  was  left-handed  and  each  one  might  be  tall 
and  powerfully  built  and  also  capable  of  committing  the 
crime,  they  could  not  be  the  same  for  one  was  an  un- 
known tramp  and  the  other  was  a  local  resident  who 
had  tried  to  borrow  from  the  Jew. 

Dr.  Gilbert  was  one  of  those  men  whose  bigness 
not  so  much  from  size — though  he  stood  six  feet  two, 
—but  from  personality — filled  whatever  room  he  en- 
tered. In  a  community  noted  for  its  large  sized  men, 
he  had  in  personality  and  physique  but  one  peer,  Farm- 
er Bibbins.  Physically  they  were  remarkably  alike.  In 
training  they  were  as  remarkably  unlike.  Judging  them 
from  their  actions  in  daily  life,  no  two  men  could  have 
more  fully  and  without  ostentation  demonstrated  their 
characteristic  qualities  of  personality  than  did  these 
two.  It  was  said  of  Dr.  Gilbert  that  his  labor  was  more 
a  practice  of  charity  than  of  medicine.  He  accepted 
hardships  as  a  pleasure,  and  constant  service  as  a  pas- 
time. 

Though  less  known  to  the  public  at  large,  his  time 
being  given  to  his  farm  in  the  main,  the  reputation  of 
Farmer  Bibbins  among  the  poorer  families  in  a  large 
district  was  closely  akin  to  the  doctor's. 

Their  training  while  unlike — one  having  been  pol- 
ished in  the  arts  and  sciences  and  the  schools  of  men; the 
other  by  stern  realities,  ever  near  to  the  soil  from  which 
all  life  comes,  was  equally  refined  and  polished  in  the 
only  college  he  had  ever  known— "The  University  of 


AT  THE  WILLOWS  49 

Out-of-doors."  Life  brought  them  nevertheless  to  a 
common  level  and  kinship  of  purpose  that  made  them 
equals  with  but  few  peers! 


CHAPTER  IV 

CHIEFLY  SPECULATIVE 

PROMPTLY   at  eight  o'clock  every  morning 
Dr.  Gilbert  entered  the  parlor  bedroom  of  the 
Bibbins  home  and  looked  at  Mose.    At  the  end 
of  a  week,  being  finally  satisfied  that  his  pre- 
vious diagnosis  was  correct  and  that  an  immediate  oper- 
ation for  the  removal  of  the  piece  of  bone  was  neces- 
sary, he  secured  Farmer  Bibbins'  permission  to  send 
Charley  with  the  fastest  horse  on  the  farm,  to  Riverton 
for  assistance. 

When  the  bone  was  lifted  from  Mose's  brain  that 
afternoon  the  two  physicians  were  alone  with  the  pa- 
tient, who  immediately  upon  the  release  of  his  facul- 
ties lifted  his  arm  and  cried  out— "You,  Matt!"  and 
fainted. 

The  doctors  looked  at  each  other  across  the  body  of 
Mose  and  smiled.  One  because  of  the  success  of  the 
operation,  and  the  other  because  he  had  found  a  clue. 
And  such  a  clue !  It  left  his  mind  in  greater  perplexity 
than  that  caused  by  his  many  unsuccessful  attempts  to 
mentally  identify  the  men  mentioned  by  Charley.  After 
a  lunch  the  Doctor  from  Riverton  departed  for  the  city, 
while  Gilbert,  taking  the  arm  of  Farmer  Bibbins  led 
him  out  to  the  front  yard  where  their  conversation 
would  not  be  overheard.  For  a  long  time  they  sat 
quietly,  no  word  except  the  "Thanks,  Doc,"  of  Farmer 
Bibbins  on  receiving  the  cigar,  escaping  the  lips  of  eith- 
er. Finally  Wood  inquired  more  fully  about  the  condi- 
tion of  the  sick  man  since  the  operation. 

"I  am  quite  sure  that  Mose  will  recover,"  the  doctor 

50 


CHIEFLY  SPECULATIVE  51 

replied,  "though  the  danger  is  not  yet  passed.  His 
chances  are  about  even.  Yes,"  in  reply  to  another  in- 
terrogation, "If  he  recovers  at  all  his  mind  will  be  re- 
stored if  we  can  prevent  his  using  it  for  two  or  three 
weeks.  The  man  is  so  completely  exhausted  however 
and  his  stock  of  vitality  is  so  low,  that  I  shall  not  be 
at  all  surprised  to  find  him  dead  at  any  time  during  the 
next  two  weeks." 

Flicking  the  ash  from  his  cigar,  he  resumed : 

"Mose  will  probably  remain  in  his  present  comatose 
condition  for  several  days  though  he  may,  at  times  for 
a  few  seconds  only,  recover  his  senses  sufficiently  to  ask 
questions.  If  he  does,  whoever  is  with  him  must  speak 
only  the  assuring  word.  For  example:  should  he  in- 
quire about  his  dog  or  pack  tell  him  the  exact  truth  in 
the  fewest  possible  words.  But  if  he  should  ask  any- 
thing which  would  indicate  a  troubled  mind,  lie  to  him; 
deny  anything,  affirm  anything,  whichever  is  necessary 
to  quiet  his  anxiety  if  the  truth  would  not.  I  especially 
emphasize  peace  of  mind  for  our  patient  because  when 
we  lifted  the  splinter  of  bone  from  the  brain  he  said 
something." 

"He  did?  What  was  it?"  Farmer  Bibbins,  excitedly 
interrupted. 

"I  cannot  tell  you,  Mr.  Bibbins.  Only  two  words  es- 
caped him  before  he  fainted.  But  those  two,  while 
they  were  quite  indistinct,  indicated  something,  and  by 
the  manner  in  which  he  tried  to  utter  them  they  referred 
to  something  exciting  to  him.  For  that  reason  I  hope 
he  will  not  regain  consciousness  sufficient  to  talk  until  I 
can  restore  a  little  more  strength  to  his  body.  When  he 
is  stronger  I  shall  not  fear  his  remembering,  or  talking 
of  whatever  occurs  to  him;  but  not  now;  not  for  a  week 
or  two  at  least.  Now  you  understand  why,  a  moment 
since,  I  said  'Tell  the  truth  when  you  can,  to  pacify; 
but  lie,  if  that  alone  will  produce  the  same  result.'  Mose 


52  FARMER  BIBBINS 

must  have  peace  for  a  time,  or  his  time  for  anything 
will  be  mighty  short.  If  you  will  inform  your  wife, 
you  will  oblige  me  greatly  and  Mose  very  much  more." 

"Certainly,  doctor,  anything  you  ask.  But  can  you 
tell  me  anything  at  all  about  the  cause  of  all  this?" 

"Nothing,  Wood.  I  admit  the  forming  of  an  opin- 
ion, principally  from  one  or  two  minor  deductions  of 
my  own  from  the  case  itself,  but  I  can  give  you  no  posi- 
tive information  or  any  other  not  based  on  pure  guess 
work.  Can  you  tell  me  anything?" 

This  question  was  so  unexpected  at  the  moment,  and 
because  he  had  so  fully  explained  all  he  knew  the  week 
before  (as  he  expressed  himself  later  to  his  wife,)  that 
when  he  attempted  to  reply  to  the  doctor's  sudden  ques- 
tion his  tongue  got  to  "wagging  sideways  and  cutting 
corners."  So  he  hesitated,  then  stammered,  and  finally 
said  nothing. 

"What's  the  matter,  Farmer  Bibbins?"  the  doctor 
asked,  puzzled  at  the  other's  manner. 

"Nothing,  Doc!  nothing  much  anyway;  at  least  noth- 
ing that  I  can  speak  of.  The  fact  is  I  don't  know  my- 
self what  to  think." 

"May  I  ask;  was  it  about  the  locality  or  the  cause  of 
the  accident?  You  need  not  answer  however,  if  you 
prefer  not  to." 

"That's  just  it,  I'd  rather  say  nothing  yet." 

"Very  well,  I  respect  your  hesitancy  about  speaking 
when  you  are  uncertain.  But  can  you  tell  me  whether 
Mose  had  an  enemy  who  could  have  done  it,  and  if  the 
enemy  lives  in  this  community?" 

"No,  I  think  not.  Not  in  this  vicinity,  county,  or 
country,  that  I  know  of.  I  have  heard  that  the  cause 
of  his  leaving  Russia, — where  he  was  a  professor  in  a 
college  at  or  near  Moscow,  and  a  man  of  wealth  and 
influence,  was  a  trouble  which  ended  in  the  death  of 
his  wife,  the  loss  of  much  of  his  property  and  his  own 


CHIEFLY  SPECULATIVE  53 

self-banishment;  of  course  that  would  mean  enemies 
over  there.  I  also  believe  that  the  name— Moses 
Goldsborough— is  an  assumed  one,  though  I  have  no 
knowledge  of  that.  I  know  he  took  up  peddling  with 
the  idea  that  he  could  the  more  completely  lose  himself 
than  by  following  his  profession  of  teaching.  That's 
all  I  can  tell  you,  Doc,  except  that  I  think  his  idea  was  a 
good  one." 


I 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY 

day  following  the  operation  on  Mose, 
Farmer  Bibbins  once  more  began  a  syste- 
matic round  of  his  neighbors  in  a  final  effort 
to  interest  them  in  the  project  of  the  factory. 
So  clearly  did  he  demonstrate  its  need,  and  so  positive- 
ly did  he  assure  them  of  its  feasibility,  that  a  number 
immediately  offered  their  signatures  to  a  contract,  while 
many  others  agreed  to  take  the  matter  into  early  consid- 
eration. 

It  was  the  unusual  obligation  for  the  violation  of  the 
contracts  by  the  party  of  the  first  part,  no  doubt,  that 
secured  a  number  of  these  willing  signers.  But  the 
greatest  surprise,  in  all  the  surprising  change  of  atti- 
tude on  the  part  of  the  community  toward  the  proposi- 
tion was  the  action  of  Bertrand  Simmons,  who  was 
working  as  hard  as  Farmer  Bibbins  himself  to  bring 
success  to  the  scheme.  Mr.  Simmons'  previous  opposi- 
tion resulted  from  personal  convictions  and  he  was  ever 
generous  with  his  elucidations  of  them ;  in  fact  was  far 
more  generous  than  lucid;  hence  it  was  the  generosity 
of  his  speech  rather  than  its  lucidity  which  convinced 
his  friends  and  defeated  Bibbins.  Now  he  was  strenu- 
ously laboring  night  and  day  to  re-illuminate  the  farm- 
ers lying  in  the  darkness  of  intellectual  error  and  mis- 
understanding, begotten  of  his  own  earlier  and  equally 
strenuous  efforts.  Mr.  Simmons  had  seen  a  great  light, 
from  a  great  height  somewhere,  and  recently.  His 
present  attitude  proved  it.  Doubtless  it  was  when  and 
where  we  saw  him  a  few  evenings  ago,  endeavoring  to 
impress  "Bony"  with  his  message  from  those  altitudes 

54 


THE  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY  55 

of  philosophy  hitherto  unattempted  by  him.  At  any 
rate  he  was  succeeding  in  the  destruction  of  his  former 
bulwarks,  fighting  from  the  front  as  he  always  had 
when  fighting  Bibbins.  Another  movement  against  the 
same  enemy  was  also  in  progress.  It,  if  expressed  in 
martial  speech,  was  a  sort  of  night  attack  and  from  the 
rear.  This  Unknown  Reserve  insisted  not  only  upon 
the  secrecy  of  his  manoeuvring  but  also  upon  the  invio- 
lability of  his  tactics.  His  motive,  committed  to  no 
man,  was  in  his  own  keeping.  Some  weeks  had  passed 
before  Farmer  Bibbins  became  cognizant  of  this  ally, 
but  when  he  was,  his  surprise  at  the  recent  efforts  of 
The  Bird  was  a  vapor  compared  with  the  solidity  of  the 
newer  one. 

It  required  many  days  and  much  argument,  but  in 
time  it  was  done,  and  Farmer  Bibbins,  kissing  his  wife 
goodby,  boarded  the  train  at  Riverton,  carrying  with 
him  a  bag  with  his  every  worldly  possession  in  the  way 
of  wearing  apparel  crowding  its  capacity,  and  with  his 
breast  as  full  of  hopes  and  cheer  as  was  his  bag  with 
socks  and  shirts,  he  started  for  the  big  city,  on  markets 
bent. 

When  he  returned  with  Charley,  who  met  his  train 
at  the  Corners,  he  was  overjoyed— notwithstanding  his 
many  inquiries  of  the  hired  man— when  he  saw  Mose 
out  walking  in  the  yard,  apparently  fully  restored  to 
sanity  and  physical  strength. 

"Hello,  Mose,"  he  shouted,  "How's  business?  Glad 
to  see  you  up  again  old  man.  Hope  you're  none  the 
worse  for  your  long  rest  in  Frances'  parlor  bedroom," 
greeting  the  Jew  laughingly. 

Ordinarily,  Mose  uttered  his  words  with  little  if  any 
foreign  accent,  and  as  distinctly  as  Farmer  Bibbins  him- 
self. Wood  was  surprised  therefore  when  Mose  re- 
plied brokenly: 

"Thank  you,  Farmer  Bippins,  I  am  petter  yet,  mooch 


56  FARMER  BIBBINS 

petter,  for  which  I  owe  you  mooch,  Farmer  Bippins, 
add  your  sblendid  vwife  mooch  more  alretty;  more  thad 
I  cad  seddle  yet,  aid  id?"  becoming  more  and  more  in- 
coherent as  his  emotion  mastered  him. 

Ere  anything  more  could  be  said,  for  which  both 
were  glad,  Mrs.  Bibbins  came  out  and  fondly  welcomed 
her  husband.  When  they  returned  to  the  house  she 
said; — 

"Well,  Wood,  I'm  awfully  glad  to  have  you  back 
safe  and  sound  from  that  big  city.  And  I'm  anxious  to 
hear  all  about  your  luck.  Was  it  good?  Judging  from 
your  face  it  must  have  been." 

"Yes,  it  was,  wife,  great  luck,  I  think.  Six  of  the 
largest  hotels  and  restaurants  in  the  city  have  con- 
tracted for  a  certain  amount  every  week,  and  more  if 
I  can  supply  it,  and  at  prices  unheard  of  around  here. 
I  was  afraid  to  begin  with  less  than  six  customers, 
limiting  each  to  a  definite  quantity,  the  total  of  which 
I  figured  out,  would  come  to  just  about  the  milk  supply 
in  the  lowest  month. 

"Another  good  thing,"  he  went  on  as  they  entered 
her  sitting  room,  arm  in  arm,  "is,  that  I  am  allowed  two 
months  out  of  every  year  to  fall  some  short  of  the 
quantity  agreed  upon  for  the  other  ten.  You  see  in  case 
of  drought  or  short  crops,  or  anything  which  could  re- 
duce the  milk  supply,  I  might  have  some  difficulty  in 
meeting  my  obligations  to  those  fellows.  So  I  had  that 
safety  clause  inserted  too.  So  that's  all  O.  K.  Say, 
wife,  what  do  you  think  of  Farmer  Bibbins  now?" 

"I  think  you  are  wonderful,  Wood,  really  I  do,"  she 
said  proudly  kissing  him  again,  fearing  that  he  doubted 
her  judgment. 

"But  how  in  the  world  did  you  think  of  all  those 
things.  I  never  could." 

"I  didn't.  It  was  Mose.  Two  years  ago— when  I 
tried  so  hard  to  get  the  thing  started,  I  talked  it  all 


THE  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY  57 

over  with  him.  We  sort  of  made  out  papers  then  to 
see  how  they  would  look.  Whenever  he  came  around 
he  would  discuss  the  plans  with  me,  getting  new  ideas 
which  I  would  put  down  until  we  got  everything  com- 
plete and  satisfactory." 

"He's  got  a  great  head  for  business  all  right.  He 
ought  to  be  rich,  Frances,  but  I  don't  believe  he  is. 
How  is  he  anyhow?  I've  been  so  anxious  to  see  him  I 
got  real  fidgety  on  the  train." 

"How  about  me?"  naively. 

"You,  oh,  nothing.  You  see  I've  had  you  with  me 
all  the  time  here,"  (placing  his  hand  over  his  heart) 
"every  minute." 

Then  embracing  her  once  more,  he  went  down  to  talk 
to  Mose. 

"I  am  fery  glad  to  see  you  again,  Farmer  Bippins, 
but  I  don't  know  id  yed  what  to  say  for  all  you  add  your 
good  vwife  have  done  for  me?"  having  somewhat  re- 
gained the  mastery  of  himself,  for  only  now  and  then 
a  muffled  consonant  was  offered  in  evidence  of  his  late 
emotion.  "But  sometime,  Farmer  Bippins,"  again  laps- 
ing into  the  thickness  of  speech,  and  he  could  never 
manipulate  those  three  B's  without  a  mix-up,  "I  cad 
tell  you,  or  show  you,  berhaps." 

It  touched  the  farmer  to  the  soul  to  see  the  old  Jew 
struggling  to  hide  the  feeling  he  could  not  express. 
Usually  Mose  was  a  matter-of-fact  individual  and  man- 
fested  little  feeling  at  any  time.  This  hitherto  unknown 
quality  in  him  upset  the  farmer  completely.  In  his 
sympathy  for  the  peddler  he  forgot  those  questions 
about  the  injury  which  his  tongue  had  been  aching  to 
ask  but  a  moment  before.  He  stood  looking  at  the 
other  until  a  statement  about  "settling"  and  "moving 
on"  recalled  him  to  himself,  and  sent  a  hasty  protest 
to  his  lips. 

"You  mustn't  think  of  doing  it  yet,  Mose;  you  are 


58  FARMER  BIBBINS 

not  strong  enough  to  do  it.  Why  don't  you  stay  here 
until  you  regain  all  your  strength?  The  wife  and  I 
will  both  be  glad  to  have  you.  Really,  Mose,  I  must 
insist  on  it.  You  would  ruin  your  health  by  starting 
out  so  early  after  your  long  sickness." 

Then,  thinking  that  the  Jew  was  considering  the  ex- 
pense, he  urged: 

"Now  don't  you  mention  payment  or  settlement 
with  me.  You  don't  owe  me  anything.  It's  t'other 
way  now." 

"But  Farmer  Bippins,  I  have  some  money,  I  can 
pay;  not  what  I  would  like  to,  but  what  I  can.  There's 
the  expense,  the  time,  the  trouble,  for  those  I  will  pay. 
And  my  dog,  The  Prophet"— at  that  moment  sum- 
moned as  though  by  the  telepathy  of  his  spoken  name 
the  terrier  came  yelping  around  the  house  and  across 
the  lawn,  not  three  feet  behind  a  great  barn  cat,  which 
easily  sprang  into  a  tree  and  settled  down  quietly  on  a 
limb  as  if  The  Prophet  were  a  Prophet  without  fame 
or  fang. 

"You  have  taken  good  care  of  my  friend  also,"  con- 
tinued Mose,  looking  at  the  cat  lying  on  a  limb  of  the 
tree  and  the  terrier  lying  on  the  grass  beneath,  each 
happy,  contented  and  with  no  apparent  care  in  the 
world,  save  to  keep  an  eye  on  each  other. 

Farmer  Bibbins  laughed.  He  knew  that  cat  and 
realized  that  unless  The  Prophet  made  himself  scarce 
he  would  experience  what  the  prophets  of  old  inflicted 
upon  themselves— only  in  this  case  the  "rawhide" 
would  be  a  result,  not  a  cause. 

"You  settle  with  the  wife,  if  you  can,"  he  replied, 
and  the  two  walked  back  to  the  porch. 


CHAPTER  VI 
CHIEFLY  TALK 

A  WEEK  or  so  after  the  departure  of  Mose, 
the  routine  of  the    Bibbins    household    re- 
sumed the  normal.     The  peddler  was  the 
daily   subject  of   conversation,   but  nothing 
having  been  heard  from  or  of  him  since  he  went  away, 
Charles  who  had  driven  him  to  the  city  was  frequently 
referred  to  as  a  possible  source  of  enlightenment  and 
a  constant  cause  of  interrogation. 

"I  tell  you  he  hardly  spoke  at  all  on  the  road,"  reit- 
erating what  he  had  already  said  fifty  times. 

"Well  what  else  did  he  speak  on  Charles,  if  not  the 
road?  Was  it  the  buggy  seat?"  some  one  would  say. 
"How  could  the  poor  Jew  speak  on  the  road  when  ajl 
the  time  he  was  on  the  seat?" 

"I  tell  you  he  never  spoke  at  all,"  said  the  hectored 
boy,  color  rising. 

"  'Never'  is  a  long  time,  Charley,"  Frank— one  of 
the  young  men — put  in.  "And  you're  lying  now  any- 
way; 'cause  I  heard  him  speak  a  number  of  times,  and 
'never's'  only  half  done  yet,  'cordin'  t'  Elder  Coffee." 

"Oh!  you  fellows  make  me  tired,"  Charley  retorted, 
leaving  the  table  where  they  were  taking  supper. 

"No,  we  don't  neither.  Your  Maker  did  that,  'fore 
even  we  knowed  you,"  was  flung  back  by  the  irre- 
pressible before  the  other  was  beyond  hearing.  Charley 
was  a  favorite  with  all,  as  their  constant  banter  testi- 
fied. Later  when  Farmer  Bibbins  found  the  boy  alone, 
in  his  room  where  he  frequently  assisted  him  with  his 
studies,  he  questioned: 

59 


60  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Didn't  Mose  talk  at  all,  Charley,  on  the  way  out?" 

"Not  a  word,  boss,  'till  just  before  he  got  out  at 
the  Hotel,  where  I  left  him.  I  asked  him  why  he 
called  his  dog  'The  Prophet,'  and  he  replied:  'Because 
he  never  speaks  unless  he  has  something  to  say,  and 
then  only  to  speak  the  truth.'  Come  to  think  of  it,  I 
don't  think  I  ever  did  hear  that  dog  bark  unless  he  did 
have  something  to  say,  which  generally  meant,  near  as 
I  understood  it,  'Git!'  to  cats,  or  Til  git  you !'  '  Then 
taking  a  small  package  from  a  trunk,  he  removed  the 
wrapper,  exhibiting  the  contents.  It  was  a  silk  hand- 
kerchief beyond  the  most  vivid  dream  of  a  Joseph's 
coat  for  coloring,  and  about  twenty  inches  square. 

"He  gave  me  that,  with  this  inside  of  it,"  said  the 
boy,  delightedly,  taking  from  its  folds  a  twenty  dol- 
lar bill.  "And  then,  before  I  could  thank  him,  he  dis- 
appeared into  the  hotel,  and  sent  a  porter  out  to  bring 
in  the  pack.  Don't  tell  the  others,  boss,  for  Mose  said 
not  to  tell,  but  I'm  sure  he  didn't  mean  you." 

It  was  a  few  evenings  later  as  Farmer  Bibbins  and 
his  wife  and  help  were  again  at  the  supper  table  that  a 
familiar  voice  called  from  the  outside,  "hello,"  and 
after  a  moment,  "Where's  Mose?" 

"Hello,  Doc,  come  in  and  have  a  bite.  I've  just  got 
home  from  Riverton,  and  we're  having  supper,"  called 
back  the  farmer.  "If  your  old  plug  won't  stand,  let 
him  lie  down,"  he  added.  The  "old  plug"  was  worth 
at  least  five  hundred  dollars. 

Dr.  Gilbert  came  in,  saying,  as  he  looked  around  for 
the  peddler: 

"Where  is  that  old  Jew?   Sick  again?" 

"No,  Mose  is  all  right,  so  far  as  we  know.  He's 
been  gone  a  couple  of  weeks.  Why?  Didn't  he  settle? 
I  thought  he  said  he  had." 

"Yes,  he  settled  in  a  way.    But  there  was  a  mistake." 

"A  mistake  eh?    That  accounts  for  Charley's  trip 


CHIEFLY  TALK  61 

to  the  bank  for  him  while  I  was  away." 

"To  the  bank?"  wonderingly  from  the  doctor.  "I 
don't  understand." 

"No?  well  Mose  did.  It  was  the  day  after  you  set- 
tled with  him,  so  they  tell  me,  that  Mose  asked  per- 
mission of  Frances  to  send  Charley  to  the  bank,  with  a 
pretty  good  sized  package." 

Dr.  Gilbert  looked  up. 

"He  didn't  say  how  much  there  was  in  it,  but  implied 
that  it  was  nearly  all  he  had  left,  after  settling  with  you. 
I  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course,"  slyly  looking  the  doc- 
tor over.  "When  Charley  was  coming  back  he  got  curi- 
ous and  looked  in  the  book.  It  was  a  new  one  with  only 
the  one  entry,  for  a  thousand  dollars.  If  that  was  all 
he  had  left,  your  mistake  must  have  cost  him  something, 
for  I  always  supposed  that  Mose  was  worth  more  than 
that  would  indicate,  though  not  so  well  off  as  most 
people  believed,"  and  Farmer  Bibbins  chuckled  in  con- 
clusion. 

Dr.  Gilbert  had  tried  to  interrupt  him  but  was  pre- 
vented by  the  unwillingness  of  the  other  man  to  have 
his  joke  spoiled.  The  doctor  was  deeply  thoughtful. 

Bibbins  resumed,  with  another  wink — inclusive  of 
all  but  the  doctor— "You  see,  Doe,  Mose,  like  all  the 
others  here  understood  that  you  were  not  quite  so  busy 
of  late,  and  I  guess  he  was  afraid  the  general  health 
would  cost  him  quite  as  much  as  his  own  particular  ill- 
ness, if  he  hung  around  any  longer  where  you  could 
continue  your  professional  calls.  So  he  skipped  the 
very  day  I  got  back  from  the  city.  Another  thing,  Doc, 
but  you  needn't  say  anything  about  it.  He  was  mad 
because  Frances  told  him  about  the  feather  bed." 

"I  never  did,  Doctor,  Wood  what  in— 

"All  right,  wife,  you  didn't,  though  I'll  bet  he  was 
glad  to  get  out  of  the  parlor  bedroom.  Say  Doc,  do 
you  know,"  as  another  contortion  of  his  face  indicated 


62  FARMER  BIBBINS 

an  effort  to  wink,"  it  was  like  going  visiting  to  have 
Mose  in  there.  I  hadn't  been  in  that  room  three  times 
since  the  wife  furnished  it,  and  I  felt  like  being  away 
from  home  every  time  I  found  myself  in  it.  I'll  be  goll 
durned,  as  Bony  says,  if  I  wasn't  scared  out  of  my 
wits  for  a  week  after  the  excitement  of  the  first  night 
wore  off.  Every  time  I  went  into  that  room  I  was 
afraid  I  was  nosing  around  where  I  had  no  business." 

This  brought  the  doctor  from  his  reverie,  and  they 
all  laughed  heartily.  Dr.  Gilbert  refreshed  himself 
with  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  cream  biscuit. 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  I  hope  your  husband  will 
feel  better  the  next  time  I  call,"  he  said  with  a  sober 
face  and  departed. 

"If  I  do,  I'll  send  around  for  some  other  doctor," 
the  farmer  called  after  him,  "Cause  I  don't  want  any 
mistakes  made  with  my  bill,"  and  again  they  all  roared 
with  laughter. 

"I  guess  the  Doc  won't  be  anxious  to  talk  over  his 
mistakes  with  me  in  a  hurry,"  he  remarked  to  his  wife 
as  they  were  sitting  in  their  comfortable  chairs 
later  in  the  evening,  she  sewing  while  he  smoked  and 
chuckled  to  himself.  Though  they  both  realized  that 
the  mistake  referred  to  was  not  what  he  had  been 
trying  to  make  out. 

"I  guess  you'll  make  the  doctor  mad  some  day,"  she 
replied. 

"Mad?  Make  Doc  Gilbert  mad  with  a  joke?  Not 
till  you  make  him  all  over  in  a  mad-house." 

"Wood  Bibbins!  Are  you  crazy?  You've  been  so 
smart  the  last  week  or  two  since  you  got  back  from 
New  York  there's  no  living  with  you.  I  wonder  what 
you  did  there?"  she  added,  inquiringly. 

"Isn't  there?  Don't  try  it  then,  but  it  don't  seem  to 
have  damaged  you  so  far,"  as  he  fondly  beamed  upon 
her.  "I've  put  up  with  you  a  good  many  years,  Little 


CHIEFLY  TALK  63 

Girl— about  seventy-five  it  seems— and  now  you  ought 
to  put  up  with  me  until  I  get  the  rest  of  the  logs  for 
the  factory  out  of  the  woods  and  over  to  Bony's  mill 
anyway,  if  you  can't  wait  till  the  factory  is  completed," 
he  retorted  with  mock  severity. 

She  only  smiled  at  him  and  he  continued:  "Did  you 
inquire  about  what  I  was  doing  in  the  city?  Well  I 
was  doing  three  hotel  men  and  three  restaurant  men, 
six  in  all,  and  pretty  good  too,  considering  the  prices  I 
am  to  get  for  ordinary  butter.  Say  wife,  we  farmers 
may  be  pretty  green,  I  guess  we  are  all  right,  as  green 
as  leaves,  the  year  round  too,  which  come  to  think  isn't 
such  a  bad  sign  after  all  for  green  things  are  alive; 
it's  the  yellow  leaf  that's  been  bit  by  the  frost  and  falls 
easily." 

"Well  I  never  did !  You  certainly  beat  me,  Wood,  I 
guess  I'll  go  to  bed." 

"I  guess  we'd  both  better  go  after  a  bit.  But  wait, 
I've  got  something  to  tell  you." 

"What  now?"  and  her  voice  was  slightly  anxious. 

"Nothing  to  worry  you,  Little  Girl;  nothing  at  all. 
You  see  that  name  I  just  called  you,  'Little  Girl'— sort- 
er stuck  in  my  crop  all  the  time  I  was  in  New  York.  I 
was  wondering  what  the  'Little  Girl'  was  doing  or 
wishing  the  'Little  Girl'  was  with  me,  and  so  on. 
'Till  one  day  after  I'd  done  those  city  chaps  up  in  farm- 
er style,  I  was  wandering  around  and  found  myself  in 
Maiden  Lane.  That  sort  of  looked  nice  to  me  because 
'Maiden'  means  'Little  Girl,'  doesn't  it?  So,  being  near 
a  store  I  walked  in  to  look  at  things,  and  found  some- 
thing I  thought  maybe  you'd  like.  But  not  knowing  the 
fit  exactly  I  didn't  know  just  how  to  manage.  I  sup- 
pose my  'Spring'  looks  sort  of  caught  the  eye  of  the 
kid  back  of  the  showcase.  Anyway  he  began  asking 
questions  to  help  me  out  I  guess,  for  he  doubtless 
thought  I  was  from  where  things  grow.  Finally  we 


64  FARMER  BIBBINS 

had  it  all  settled.  Now  wait!  don't  get  anxious  or 
I'll  go  to  bed  without  telling  you  the  rest.  There,  that's 
better,"  as  she  cuddled  up  like  a  child  on  his  knees 
with  her  cheek  against  his. 

"So  when  I  came  home  I  looked  around  till  I  found 
what  I  wanted  and  sent  it  to  him  with  a  little  check  and 
my  address,  given  at  Riverton.  That's  what  took  me 
to  the  city  today,  as  much  as  to  see  about  the  making 
of  the  butter  machinery,"  wickedly  stretching  the  story 
all  he  could,  "though  I  was  anxious  about  that  too. 
Well  it  was  there  all  right.  I've  got  it  inside  of  this 
durned  slab  of  a  biled  shirt,  which  if  you'll  just  un- 
button that  collar  and  take  out  that  stud,  you'll  find  it 
pinned  to  my  suspender.  Now  let's  see  you  get  it." 

But  she  was  already  getting  it  and  in  a  moment  had 
it  on  her  finger,  and  her  lips  on  those  of  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  and  both  arms  around  his  neck.  And  yes,  while 
clinging  to  him  just  like  that,  her  tears  ruined,  utter- 
ly, his  fresh  paper  collar ! 

"Now  let's  go  to  bed,"  he  concluded. 

"No,  not  now,  it's  so  early,"  she  protested,  sitting  up 
trying  through  her  glistening  tears  to  catch  the  flash- 
ing of  the  brilliant  stone,  scintillating  with  the  light  it 
reflected  from  the  lamp.  "Oh,  Wood,  but  you  are  good 
to  me;  and  I — I—."  She  resumed  her  late  posture  of 
arm  and  cheek  and  stopped. 

"I-I,"  he  mimicked,  "I  what?" 

"I  thought  you  had  forgotten  to  bring  me  anything 
when  you  returned.  Will  you  forgive  me  Farmer  Bib- 
bins?"  she  asked  turning  to  look  into  his  eyes. 

"No,  I  won't!"  and  kissed  her.  "That's  all  the  for- 
giveness you  need." 

"But  Wood,  how  did  you  get  the  size  so  perfectly?" 

"That's  what  that  young  fellow  back  of  the  counter 
and  I  talked  about,"  he  explained.  "You  see  I  didn't 
know  and  I  didn't  want  to  get  it  wrong,  so  I  paid 


CHIEFLY  TALK  65 

enough  down  to  satisfy  him,  and  when  I  came  home  I 
found  a  ring  you  sometimes  wear  on  that  finger,  and 
sent  it  on.  It  came  back  with  that  thing,"  pointing  to 
the  diamond,"  but  I  took  it  out  of  the  box  and  put  it 
in  my  pocketbook  and  here  it  is,"  handing  it  to  her. 
"Now  lets  go  to  bed.  I'm  so  darn  tired  holding  you 
this  chair's  aching  out  of  sympathy." 


CHAPTER  VII 
IN  WHICH  "BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB 


I 


HE  only  saw-mill  nearer  than  Barnes  Cen- 
ter was  owned  by  Mr.  "Bony"  Lowton,  and 
operated  by  his  oldest  son,  Matthew, to  whom 
his  father  leased  it.  Matthew,  or  "Matt," 
was  a  wild,  reckless  sort  of  a  fellow,  though  when  not 
drinking  he  was  a  hard  worker.  Big  and  powerfully 
built,  he  managed  by  his  great  strength  to  run  the  mill 
alone,  except  the  "grist"  part  of  it  where  he  employed 
an  experienced  miller.  The  mill  was  only  a  few  miles 
distant  from  the  woodlot  of  Farmer  Bibbins  and,  as  it 
was  the  only  one  in  a  large  district,  it  should  have  done 
a  good  business.  But  owing  to  Matt's  surly  disposition, 
and  the  greedy  reputation  of  his  father,  so  well  ex- 
pressed in  the  abbreviated  name  of  "Hog"  (used  about 
equally  with  his  other  nom  de  plume)  it  was  idle  a  good 
portion  of  the  time.  To  this  mill  were  drawn  the  logs 
from  which  the  lumber  for  the  new  factory  was  to  be 
sawed,  with  the  understanding  that  on  a  certain  date 
the  work  should  be  completed. 

In  the  meantime,  Farmer  Bibbins,  together  with  his 
men  and  teams,  did  the  fall  plowing,  cut  a  year's  supply 
of  wood  for  the  house  so  that  it  might  have  time  to  sea- 
son thoroughly;  picked  up  all  the  stones  in  sight,  though 
few  were  left  on  the  surface  of  his  farm;  looked  care- 
fully to  the  fences ;  and  with  extra  help,  experienced  in 
such  work,  built  a  concrete  foundation  for  the  factory, 
and  a  dam  across  the  "North  Branch"  of  the  same  ma- 
terial for  a  water-power  to  run  the  machinery  of  the 
factory.  This  done,  the  teams  were  sent  to  the  mill  for 

66 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  67 

the  first  loads  of  lumber. 

At  noon  they  returned  with  the  report  that  Matt  was 
away,  the  mill  not  running  and  the  logs  were  either 
floating  in  the  pond  or  still  banked  on  the  skids.  The 
miller  in  charge  of  the  grinder  could  give  them  no  in- 
formation other  than  that  Matt  was  away,  though 
daily  expected  home,  and  would  doubtless  return  that 
night.  The  next  morning  Farmer  Bibbins  drove  down 
to  the  mill. 

"Hello,  in  there,"  he  called  out. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Bibbins,"  said  the  miller,  com- 
ing out  on  to  the  platform  where  grists  were  loaded. 

"Good  morning,  Garrett,  where's  Matt?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"I  thought  you  told  my  man  he  would  be  back  last 
night?" 

"I  did,  that's  what  his  brother  told  me;  but  he  ain't 
here  yet." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  is?" 

"No,  but  I  guess  he's  on  a  drunk  all  right  and  taking 
in  the  fairs.  He's  been  gone  some  time." 

"Do  you  know  why  he  hasn't  done  my  sawing?" 

"No,  I  asked  him  when  he  began  drinking  if  you 
were  not  in  a  hurry  for  them,  but  he  told  me  to  go  to 
— ,  where  he's  going  alright  if  he  don't  let  up  soon. 
That's  all  I  know." 

"Could  you  start  the  saw  for  me?"  he  inquired  after 
a  moment's  thinking. 

"No,  I  don't  know  the  first  thing  about  it.  I  wish 
I  did,  I'd  get  it  done  for  you  if  I  didn't  grind  a  kernel 
of  anything  till  'twas  finished.  I  can't  though,  'cause  I 
know  nothing  at  all  about  sawmills." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment;  then  the  miller 
spoke  up;  "Did  you  have  any  writing  with  Matt?" 

"No,  why?" 

"Cause  you  could  take  the  logs  to  the  Center  and 


68  FARMER  BIBBINS 

have  'em  sawed.  You  could  anyway,  'cause  he's  brok- 
en the  'greement." 

"I  haven't  time.  Then  too,  it's  too  far.  It  would 
cost  me  more  than  to  buy  the  lumber  outright.  Matt 
promised— 

"Promised!"— mentioning  the  place  where  broken 
promises  are  passes  to  front  seats,  and  said  no  more. 

"I  suppose  I  might  find  a  man  who  could  run  it,  don't 
you  think?" 

"You  could  if  Bony'd  let  you.  Why  don't  you  see 
him?" 

"I  will,  so  long,"  and  Farmer  Bibbins  drove  away. 

He  went  on  to  the  Lowton  farm  only  to  find  that 
"Bony"  had  left  early  that  morning  to  find  Matt. 

"No,  they  didn't  know  when  he  would  be  back,  prob- 
ably not  for  a  week  or  two,"  they  said  at  the  house. 
Then  he  went  home,  not  exactly  singing  but  with  a  look 
in  his  eyes  which  being  directed  at  the  sun  at  that  par- 
ticular hour  of  the  day  was  suggestive.  Eight  days  re- 
mained of  the  two  months  for  the  annulling  of  the  con- 
tracts; should  they  continue  beyond  the  first,  unless  he 
could  find  lumber,  he  would  be  ruined;  utterly  ruined. 
He  advised  with  his  wife,  and  after  dinner  went  up 
to  the  Center. 

His  errand  was  fruitless  and  nearly  left  him  hope- 
less. Made  of  the  material  which  is  not  easily  broken 
however,  he  spent  the  next  six  days  driving  hither  and 
yon  looking  for  material,  and  on  the  night  of  the  last 
day  but  one  before  his  contracts  would  become  binding 
returned  home  without  the  slightest  promise  of  success. 

To  be  sure  he  could  find  lumber,  quantities  of  it.  But 
his  agreement  with  the  New  York  customers  called  for 
butter  made  in  a  factory  built  of  certain  woods ;  as  near- 
ly free  from  qualities  and  odors  that  might  taint  his 
products,  as  the  most  scientific  butter  workers  in  the 
state  could  suggest.  On  this  one  stipulation  alone  a 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  69 

price  had  been  asked  which  had  almost  pricked  his 
conscience;  though  his  future  customers  assured  him 
that  quality  and  not  price  was  their  sole  consideration 
in  changing  their  source  of  supply.  For  lack  of  time, 
he  could  not  secure  the  annulment  of  that  paragraph  in 
his  contracts  with  his  city  customers.  There  was  but 
one  hope  left;  the  possibility  of  Lowton's  having  re- 
turned and  his  willingness  to  start  the  mill  at  once. 

"Don't  you  worry,  Wood,"  his  wife  advised  sympa- 
thetically when  she  sat  down  with  him  by  the  fireplace 
in  her  own  particular  sittingroom,  "we've  been  in  tight- 
er places  before,  and  with  nothing  but  our  hands  to 
work  a  way  out  for  us.  Now  we  have  the  farm  and 
money  in  the  bank,  and  no  debts.  So  don't  worry,  it 
will  all  come  right;  you  see  if  it  doesn't." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  Frances,"  his  anxiety  show- 
ing in  his  tone,  "the  two  months  for  abrogating  the 
ontracts  are  up  to-morrow,  and  if  the  sawing  isn't  done, 
and  I  can't  find  lumber  to  build,  we'll  be  completely 
ruined.  If  I  could  see  the  material  for  building  any- 
where in  the  country  I'd  let  the  agreements  stand,  no 
matter  what  the  cost  of  building  might  be.  But  I  can't 
and  what's  more  and  harder  than  all  else  to  bear  is  to 
have  to  back  down  at  the  last  moment,  after  all  the 
claims  and  promises  I've  made  to  my  neighbors. 

"Here  is  my  position,"  he  explained  after  a  period 
of  silence,  "if  the  contracts  continue  in  force  after  to- 
morrow, and  I  have  no  factory  to  use  the  milk  after  the 
time  comes  for  delivering  it  to  me,  I  shall  have  to  sell  it 
to  the  Company  again  at  their  own  price,  and  hire  each 
farmer  to  draw  it  for  me.  If  I  refuse  to  take  it,  then 
I  have  to  settle  with  every  one  of  them,  in  proportion 
to  the  number  of  cows  in  each  dairy,  at  a  price  which 
in  the  total,  will  take  all  or  more  than  all  we  have  in 
the  world.  Either  way,  we  are  ruined  unless  I  can  have 
lumber,  of  the  right  kind,  to  build;  and  only  God  knows 


7o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

where  it  is  or  how  I  am  to  find  it  unless  Lowton  will 
start  the  mill.  Even  then,  it  will  be  a  mighty  close 
shave,  for  the  lumber  must  be  seasoned  if  the  building 
is  to  endure,  after  we  put  it  up." 

Lighting  his  pipe,  he  sat  looking  at  the  fire  burning 
on  the  hearth,  for  the  evenings  were  now  quite  cold. 
Mrs.  Bibbins  left  the  room  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
when  she  returned,  she  lit  the  lamp  and  drawing  her 
chair  close  to  his  said:  "Wood,  I'm  going  to  prophesy, 
listen;  in  eight  months  from  tonight  when  the  factory 
is  completed,  and  your  dynamo  installed  in  the  power- 
house, instead  of  coming  in  here  and  striking  a  match  to 
light  that  lamp,  I  shall  simply  stop  at  the  door,  push  a 
button  (the  way  we  did  in  that  big  hotel  where  we 
stopped  when  we  went  to  the  State  Fair)  and  the  room 
will  be  brighter  than  it  is  or  could  be  with  a  dozen  such 
lamps.  Now  you  take  that  book  and  read  to  me.  I 
want  to  finish  this  doily." 

When  Wood  drove  into  the  Lowton  yard  the  next 
morning,  Bony  stood  in  the  barn  door,  as  if  expecting 
him;  perhaps  he  was  but  he  didn't  appear  excessively 
cordial. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Lowton,"  Farmer  Bibbins 
greeted  him  affably.  He  knew  nothing  of  the  Gilbert 
formula  but  was  determined  to  act  its  spirit  if  he  were 
unconscious  of  the  fact  and  ignorant  of  the  letter,  to 
which  the  other,  also  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  he 
was  emphasizing  one  of  his  characteristic  titles, 
grunted,  "Mornin'." 

"Your  son  returned  yet?" 

"Which  'un?" 

"Matthew." 

"No,  and  what's  more  to  the  pint,  I  don'  gin  a  gol 
durn  'f  he  never  doz  come  back,  nuther;  why?" 

"I  want  my  lumber  for  the  butter  factory,"  Farmer 
Bibbins  continued,  conciliation  charging  every  word  he 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  71 

uttered. 

"You  see  Matt  agreed  to  have  the  work  done  weeks 
ago.  And  the  logs  are  either  in  the  pond  or  on  the 
skids,  just  as  my  men  left  them." 

He  was  not  looking  at  the  other.  Bony  was  never 
pleasant  to  the  eye,  and  especially  to  the  eye  of  the 
man  talking.  He  didn't  like  Bony  though  he  tried  stren- 
uously not  to  dislike  him.  Thus  he  failed  to  note  the 
boorish  grin  on  the  Hog's  face  and  continued:  "I'm  in 
a  pretty  serious  plight,  Mr.  Lowton.  The  contracts 
must  either  be  annulled  today  (the  Hog's  tusks,  for 
some  hidden  reason,  showed  plainly  now)  or  else  I  shall 
have  to  take  the  milk,  but  without  a  factory  I  can't  do 
it;  and  I  cannot  build  one  unless  I  have  the  material. 
It  all  hinges  on  that.  If  I'm  ruined,  as  I  shall  be,  unless 
you  will  saw  the  lumber  for  me  at  once,  it  will  be  no 
fault  of  mine,  but  Matt's.  I  know  what  I  am  talking 
about,"  he  said,  glancing  at  the  other  a  second  and  see- 
ing the  angry  face,  "for  I've  been  all  over  the  country 
frying  to  buy  the  right  kind.  Why  I  went  as  far  as 
Carthage  and  Cape  Vincent,  but  not  a  board  of  the 
kind  I  must  have  could  I  find.  Now  if  I  could  see  a 
chance  of  getting  my  own  logs  sawed,  though  it's  pret- 
ty late,  for  the  lumber  must  be  well  seasoned  before  I 
can  use  it,  I  would  let  the  agreements  stand  and  take 
the  risk  of  having  things  ready  by  July  first.  Now  Mr. 
Lowton,"  with  a  diminution  of  his  growing  vehem- 
ence, "if  you  will  let  me  get  a  sawyer  from  the  Center,  I 
will  go  ahead  with  the  work,  taking  all  the  responsibil- 
ity, pay  any  damage  that  may  be  done  to  the  mill,  and 
release  you  of  all  trouble  in  the  matter.  What  do  you 
say?"  he  asked,  looking  once  more  at  the  old  man,  who, 
at  the  moment,  was  changing  the  inevitable  straw  to  the 
other  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"Is  it  a  go?  I  must  know  at  once;  for  unless  you  will 
grant  this  favor,  I  must  start  immediately  to  see  all  the 


72  FARMER  BIBBINS 

signers  and  abrogate  our  agreement.  This  is  the  last 
day,  both  for  me,  and  of  the  month  too." 

"So  I  understan',"  quietly,  he  got  this  out  without 
showing  his  condition  of  temper,  "did  ye  say  twas  im- 
poss'ble  to  git  what  ye  want  ary  other  place?" 

"Yes,  utterly  impossible." 

"An'  ye  can't  git  on  with  them  contracts  'nless  ye  has 
the  lummer  sawed  in  the  Mill?" 

"I  cannot." 

"An'  if  ye  don',  ye'll  be  roon'd." 

"Completely  ruined.  It  would  take  every  dollar  I 
have  in  the  world,  farm  and  all,  to  pay  the  forfeits; 
and  if  I  sold  again  to  the  Company's  agent,  the  cost  of 
hauling  and  the  loss  in  price,  for  I  would  be  at  their 
mercy  and  compelled  to  take  whatever  they  chose  to 
give,  would  ruin  me  just  as  completely,  though  per- 
haps not  so  quickly." 

"I'm  might  feared  'twould,"  was  Bony's  comment. 
After  a  moment  as  if  gathering  strength  to  hurl  some 
hidden  bomb,  he  slowly  asked,  as  he  now  for  the  only 
time  that  morning  looked  Farmer  Bibbins  in  the  eye, 
"An'  the  sixty  days  air  up,  be  they?" 

"Yes,  this  is  my  last  day." 

Then  the  bomb  exploded.  Bony  fairly  jumped  in  his 
glee  as  the  sound  echoed  in  his  own  voice  while  he 
screeched : 

"Yer  dam'  right  tiz!  Farmer  Bibbins,  yer  jest  dam 
right  tiz !  yer  gol  dern  fool !  Ye  tho't  sixty  days  ment 
tew  months,  didn't  ye?  Yer  yaller  legged  loud  crowin' 
Bramy  rooster,  ye'll  crow  on  ole  Bony  will  ye?  Well 
Farmer  Bibbins,  tew  months  is  sixty  days  alright,  but 
sixty  days  ain't  allus  tew  months,  unnerstan'  ?  Yer  con- 
tract time  'xpired  yest'day!  Yer  so  gol  dern  high  head- 
ed ye  looked  clean  over  one  day,  d'  ye  hear?  Ye  stuck 
up  would-be  'ristcrat!  Ye'll  buy  Ian'  again  ye  know  I 
want,  won't  ye?  I've  got  ye  Farmer  Bibbins  right  whar 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  73 

1  want  ye !  Ye've  tho't  yerself  so  gol  dern  smart  with 
yer  big  crops  and  yer  new  buildin's  and  yer  bank  money, 
and  buyin'  Ian'  other  folks  wants,  that  I'm  sick  and 
tired  on't,  d'  ye  hear?  Jest  sick  and  tired  on't,  and  I'll 
break  ye !  Break  ye  right  in  the  middle  too  by  gosh ! 
Yer  not  satisfied  to  git  rich  offen  your  own  Ian'  and 
caows,  ye  want  t'  git  rich  offen  ourn  too,  don't  ye? 
Wall,  ye  wont,  coz  I'll  smash  ye,  smash  ye  so  gol  dern 
fine  yer  folks  kin  strain  ye  threw  cheesecloth.  Ye  tho't 
ye  had  t'day,  did  ye?  Wall  ye  hev  alright,  an'  that's 
'bout  all  ye  hev  got  too,  'cept  a  lot  o'  contracts  et'l 
roon  ye !  Sixty  days  is  sixty  days,"  coming  back  to  the 
pivot  of  his  tirade,  "an'  not  tew  months.  I  got  the 
pint  to  the  start,  an'  talked,  an'  talked,  an'  talked  till 
the  hull  naborhood  got  't,  and  ye  got  it  an'  ye  talked  't 
yerself,  ye  self  decepted,  overgrowed,  pufftup,  whey- 
bellied  shote,  till  ye  got  it  so  kivered  ye  cudn't  see  the 
pint.  But  ye  will  when  the  pint  on't  jabs  ye,  ez  twill 
when  ye  gotter  take  the  milk  er  take  water,  (he  almost 
laughed  at  his  own  "tother  pint"— of  water).  Catch- 
ing his  breath  and  still  watching  Farmer  Bibbins  who 
was  looking  at  him  like  one  lost  in  the  maze  of  a 
most  intricate  problem,  as  he  sat  quietly  in  his  Brew- 
ster  buggy,  old  "Bony"  rattled  away  more  like  a  grin- 
ning skeleton  than  a  living  man,  with  a  renewed  and  un- 
controllable strength  of  words. 

"Ye'll  buy  Ian'  I  want  agin  will  ye?  Ye  bot  the  gest 
of  Bole  ony  did  ye?  Wall  I'll  larn  ye  ef  ye  try  it!  Say 
ye  gosh  durn  pizen  adder  ye  tho't  twas  the  Bird  war- 
blin'  roun'  helpin'  yer  git  them  contrac's  too  didn't  ye? 
Wall,  twant  him,  twas  me  mor'n  twas  him,  the  hi'fa- 
lutin',  hi-flyin'  wife-eddicated  lummox,  that  dun  the 
argerin',  on'y  I  kep  low  jes  ter  git  even  with  yer.  I  seen 
the  chanst  I  ben  waitin'  fer  long  time  ter  make  yer  look 
small.  An'  when  Matt's  leas'  run  out  I  b'gun  dooin'  't. 
I  didn'  hev  no  leas'  but  sole  the  durn  mill  to  a  lawyer 


74  FARMER  BIBBINS 

from  Riverton  an  its  goin  to  be  turned  into  a  cheer  fac- 
try  or  suthin,  and  gin  the  deed  and  possession  a  week 
ago." 

He  had  grown  a  trifle  steadier  in  expression  till  he 
came  to  the  concluding  words:  "Now  if  you  don't  git 
out  of  this  yard  and  often  this  farm  I'll  hev  the  law  on 
ye  fer  trespassin,  ye  low-down,  hangdog,  blitherin,  wool 
smooched  sheep  killin'  houn',  now  git!"  screaming  the 
last  words  in  hysterical  laughter  at  the  climax  of  his 
long-held  and  longer  hoped-for  scheme  of  revenge 
against  Farmer  Bibbins,  who  drove  away  too  dumb- 
founded to  comprehend,  or  make  any  adequate  reply. 
Wood  had  covered  half  the  distance  home  and  was  pro- 
ceeding slowly  with  head  bowed  in  deep  reflection, 
when  of  a  sudden  the  full  meaning  of  the  outburst,  it's 
cause  and  effect,  came  to  him.  For  a  moment  he 
laughed  at  his  own  momentary  indifference  to  the  old 
man's  tirade.  Then  as  the  consequences  of  it  unfolded 
like  a  chart  before  him,  his  body  became  more  erect,  his 
hand  closed  more  tightly  upon  the  rein,  his  eyes  took 
on  a  deeper  blue,  and  when  he  drove  through  the  gate 
and  up  to  his  house  he  was  singing;  singing  the  one  par- 
ticular line  of  no  particular  song,  "Look  away  to  the 
South." 

He  called  for  Charley,  who  hearing  the  chant  of  the 
Southern  prospect,  was  endeavoring  to  hide  from  the 
wrath  to  come  behind  a  wood  pile.  But  Wood  saw  him 
and  smilingly  told  him  to  take  the  horse,  and  entered 
the  house. 

"Come  into  the  front  room,  Wood,  Dr.  Gilbert  is 
here.  He's  been  waiting  for  you,"  called  his  wife  as 
she  came  to  meet  him  at  the  kitchen  door.  Then  as  she 
saw  his  face  she  whispered: 

"What  is  it  Wood,  another  disappointment?" 

"No,  Frances,  only  a  continuation  of  the  same  one. 
Bony's  sold  the  mill  to  a  stranger  and  it's  going  to  be 


75 

turned  into  a  chair  factory."  The  dejection  of  his  voice 
showed  the  depth  of  his  anxiety.  He  was  not  prepared 
to  tell  her  of  the  other  and  even  more  crushing  blow  to 
their  welfare.  That  must  be  weighed  carefully  before 
he  disclosed  it. 

"Well,  don't  worry,  Wood;  it  will  all  come  right,  I 
know  it  will." 

"I'm  afraid  not,  Frances.  It  looks  bad.  But  I'll 
have  you,  that's  more  than  all  the  rest,  though  it  were 
ten  times  as  much  to  lose  as  it  is,"  he  replied,  embrac- 
ing her  tenderly. 

"Now  let's  see  the  doctor,  maybe  he  can  prescribe  for 
our  trouble,"  with  an  effort  at  cheerfulness.  "Hello, 
Doc,  what  are  you  doing  here?  Haven't  you  got  that 
mistake  straightened  out  yet?"  he  greeted  the  doctor  as 
banteringly  as  his  depression  would  permit. 

"No,  Farmer  Bibbins,  I  have  not  but  hope  to  some 
day.  How  are  you?  Why!  what's  the  matter?  You 
look  sick  and  your  hand  is  as  hot  as  a  stoker's  in  Hades. 
What's  up?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  it's  all  down,  Doc,  pretty  low  down 
too,  judging  from  the  facts.  Bony  has  sold  the  mill  and 
my  logs  are  not  sawed  for  the  factory.  The  worst  of 
it  is  that  it  has  been  done  purposely  to  ruin  me.  By  de- 
laying the  sawing  till  the  contracts  were  beyond  annul- 
ment he  has  got  me  where  I  can  see  nothing  but- 
then  discovering  that  he  had  let  the  whole  thing  go  be- 
fore Frances  he  stopped. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Wood?"  she  cried,  her  face 
white  with  fear.  "You  can  annul  them  this  afternoon, 
can't  you?" 

"I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you  just  yet,  Frances,  but  I 
might  as  well  explain  the  whole  matter.  You  see,"  and 
his  voice  trembled  as  he  proceeded.  "The  time  for  that 
expired  last  night.  I  was  thinking,  fool  that  I  am,  that 
sixty  days  meant  two  months,  which  is  true  sometimes, 


76  FARMER  BIBBINS 

but  not  of  the  two  months  just  passed.  I  don't  know 
how  it  all  came  about,  though  Lowton  indirectly  claims 
the  credit  for  my  blindness.  Somehow  I  lost  sight  of 
that  one  day  and  got  my  mind  fixed  on  two  full  months 
instead  of  sixty  days;  if  the  agreements  only  had  read 
two  months.  But  they  don't.  They  state  clearly  sixty 
days,  and  the  sixty  days  were  up  some  hours  ago,  with 
the  result  that  on  or  before  the  first  day  of  next  June  1 
shall  have  to  settle  the  penalties  named  in  the  several 
agreements." 

"But  how  could  Lowton,  even  indirectly,  create  the 
impression  that  you  had  until  twelve  tonight?"  put  in 
Dr.  Gilbert,  "completely  blinding  you  and  the  whole 
community  to  the  main  fact,"  he  added. 

"That's  just  it.  He  told  me  himself,  not  only  how, 
but  the  reason  why.  He  said  that  from  the  first  he  'kot 
the  pint,'  and  then  he  made  another  'pint'  of  talking  it 
at  every  opportunity,  with  the  signers,  impressing  them 
with  the  idea  that  they  meant  until  the  first,  without 
directly  calling  attention  to  the  words.  Why,  one  day 
when  I  was  talking  with  him,  and  the  matter  was  men- 
tioned, I  remember  distinctly— now  that  it  is  too  late  — 
how  he  spoke  of  my  having  until  the  first  to  find  a  mar- 
ket and  prepare  for  building.  It  never  occurred  to  me 
that  the  suggestion  was  volunteered  for  the  purpose  of 
misleading  me.  And  if  I  failed  to  'ketch  the  pint,'  it  is 
not  surprising  that  the  others  who  could  only  gain  by 
the  misunderstanding,  should  likewise  fail  in  discov- 
ering it. 

"You  know  how  it  is,  Doc,"  continuing,  "we  farm- 
ers in  a  community  like  this,  don't  think  so  much  of  the 
finer  points  of  meaning  as  we  should.  While  I  can 
only  blame  myself  for  being  so  completely  misled  by 
the  old  fox,  I  can  appreciate  how  perfectly  natural  it 
is  that  the  'pint'  was  overlooked  by  the  signers." 

There  was  no  effort  to  shift  the  responsibility  to  oth- 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  77 

ers  in  Farmer  Bibbins'  words.  It  was  his  own  fault, 
and  he  would  meet  the  responsibility,  though  it  cost  him 
all  he  had.  Frances  was  too  completely  crushed  to 
speak.  She  moved  over  to  her  husband's  chair  and 
stood  back  of  it,  with  her  hands  resting  sympathetically 
on  his  shoulders,  facing  the  doctor. 

"That  in  a  measure  accounts  for  the  prevailing  mis- 
understanding no  doubt,"  the  doctor  was  saying 
thoughtfully,  while  she  watched  him  dumbly  and  with 
haggard  face.  "But  it  does  not  explain  why  he  has 
taken  so  much  trouble  to  ruin  you,  or  to  delay  your  pro- 
ject, for  that  must  not  be  permitted  to  him  or  any  other. 
It's  too  infamous,  and  what's  more  we  will  not  permit 
it — not  if  I  have  to— 

"Thanks,  Doc,  but  it  can't  be  helped  now." 

"Yes,  it  can  be,  and  must  be,"  he  protested.  "But 
why  has  he  done  all  this?" 

"You  remember  when  I  bought  the  Staples  farm?" 

"Yes,  why?" 

"That's  the  reason.    He  wanted  it." 

"You  don't  mean  that  that  alone  is  the  cause  of  his 
evident  hatred  and  intent  to  ruin  you?" 

"Nothing  else,  except  that  I'm  a  'high  heded  stuckup 
upstart.'  I  guess  my  head  must  have  been  pretty  high 
too,  as  Bony  told  me,  to  have  overlooked  a  fact  that 
will  take  all  the  wife  and  I  have  worked  so  long  to  ac- 
cumulate." 

His  voice  and  manner  were  so  dispirited  that  Dr.  Gil- 
bert thought  best  to  relieve  the  tension  of  his  friend's 
feelings  by  a  moment's  distraction. 

"Frances,"  directing  his  words  to  her,  "you  know 
I  arn  to  call  you  that  now,— what  was  that  prophecy 
you  made  to  your  husband  last  night?  About  which  you 
were  speaking  when  he  came?  Did  you  not  say  that  in 
eight  months  or  less  you  were  going  to  push  a  button 
there,  by  that  door,  and  light  your  room  by  electricity 


78  FARMER  BIBBINS 

instead  of  burning  oil?  Now,  wait!  I  don't  want  either 
of  you  to  speak  for  a  moment.  Let  me  add  something 
to  your  statement;  not  only  will  you  do  all  you  promised 
yourself,  but  I'll  be  here  when  you  do  it  the  first  time. 
Besides  that,  and  still  more;  we  will  have  the  liveliest 
party  and  the  greatest  gathering  of  your  friends  and 
neighbors  to  see  it  done  that  ever  came  out  in  the  old 
town.  We  won't  wait  eight  months  either,"  he  added 
a  moment  later. 

"No,  Doc,  it  can't  be  done,"  said  Bibbins,  "I'm  in 
too  small  a  hole  to  pull  out  so  easily." 

"Now  see  here,  Farmer  Bibbins,  where  is  your 
pluck?  Are  you  going  to  allow  that  bag  of  old  bones, 
called  Hog  in  all  propriety,  to  frighten  you  out  of  sev- 
eral hundred  acres  of  land,  besides  five  or  six  thousand 
dollars  in  cash,  without  an  effort  to  keep  your  own? 
See  here !  I'm  going  to  take  a  hand  in  this  fight,  if  a 
fight  is  coming  and  together  we  will  scatter  the  skele- 
ton of  that  old  chap  so  far  and  wide  the  greatest  bone 
collector  in  the  country  couldn't  find  enough  to  articu- 
late a  pair  of  ribs." 

"No,  no,  Doc,  you  keep  out  of  it.  I  know  you  mean 
all  you  say  and  I  am  more  grateful  than  I  can  tell  you, 
but  it  would  never  do,  Doc,  never.  It  would  ruin  your 
practice  in  this  section  and  make  enemies  of  all  your 
friends.  I  can't  understand,"  thoughtfully,  "unless 
there  is  more  than  Lowton's  disappointment  in  losing 
the  Staples  farm  back  of  it— how  the  whole  forty-odd 
signers,  most  of  them  warm  personal  friends  of  mine, 
—have  managed  to  overlook  that  matter  of  the  sixty 
days  limit— though  I  did  myself— with  never  a  word 
or  suggestion  to  set  me  right.  There  must  be  more  to 
it  than  one  man's  jealousy,  and  more  in  it  than  that  one 
jealous  man.  None  of  them  have  been  unusually  busy 
for  several  weeks  as  I  have  and  they  must  have  looked 
at  the  contracts  many  times,  since  signing  them.  I 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  79 

know  these  farmers,  and  anything  affecting  their  in- 
terest, as  this  would  have,  if  carried  through,  could 
never  be  laid  aside  for  a  day  without  thought  and  re- 
flection." 

"No,  Doc,  it  isn't  reasonable,"  he  went  on,  "unless 
there  is  something  besides  the  bitterness  of  Lowton  to 
account  for  the  absolute  silence  of  the  entire  number. 
Don't  you  think  I'm  right  in  these  conclusions?" 

"Yes,  and  no.  In  a  way  it  is  incomprehensible,  in 
another  it  is  not.  Now,  don't  think  that  I  am  trying  to 
flatter  you,  or  your  neighbors  either.  But  you  must 
realize  that  few  farmers  around  here  give  the  same 
amount  of  thought  to  such  matters  that  you  do,  though 
you  have  in  this  one  instance  been  careless.  And  finally, 
the  fact  of  overlooking  the  date  of  expiration  is 
much  more  easily  accounted  for  in  you  because  you 
have  been  so  occupied  with  your  plans  which  does  not 
disprove  what  I  have  just  stated  regarding  them,  in 
the  least,  but  verifies  it." 

"Then  how  do  you  account  for  the  reticence  of  my 
friends?  most  of  them  are  my  friends,  I  am  sure,  as 
well  as  their  ignorance  of  the  fact?"  Farmer  Bibbins 
inquired. 

"I  don't,  I  can't  account  for  their  reticence,  unless 
I  have  done  so  already  in  trying  to  account  for  their 
ignorance.  But,"  and  the  doctor  stood  up  opening 
wide  his  hand  for  a  second,  "I  will,  or  we  will  togeth- 
er, and  when  we  do,"  clinching  his  fist,  "The  services 
of  some  man  of  my  calling  will  be  in  great  demand  for 
a  time.  I  shall  not  be  the  one  called  in,  though  I  may 
be  'called  out,'  if  your  neighbors  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  that  phrase."  And  he  resumed  his  chair. 

Farmer  Bibbins  was  more  profoundly  stirred  by  the 
doctor's  attitude  than  by  his  logical  exposition  of  the 
problem.  During  the  conversation  Frances  remained 
standing  with  her  arms  on  the  shoulders  of  her  hus- 


8o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

band,  facing  Dr.  Gilbert.  Not  one  word  had  she  spok- 
en since  assuming  the  position. 

"I  think,  Wood,"  she  now  spoke  up,  "That  the  doc- 
tor is  right  in  his  conclusions.  But  I  just  saw  Mr. 
Simmons  drive  into  the  yard.  It  might  be  wise  to  say 
nothing  more.  He's  at  the  door  now." 

"Don't  go,  Doctor,"  as  he  reached  for  his  case, 
"Stay  to  dinner  with  us.  I  think  it  is  about  ready.  I 
have  a  splendid  girl  now,  and  don't  have  to  bother  at 
all  with  the  meals." 

"Yes,  Doc,  stay,"  repeating  her  invitation  before 
Gilbert  could  reply,  "I  want  to  talk  with  you  a  little 
more  about  this  before  I  have  to  meet  the  issue.  And 
I  may  not  see  you  for  some  time." 

"That's  Simmons,"  he  added  as  the  Bird's  knuckles 
struck  the  door,  "I  wonder  what  brings  him?"  They 
could  see  him  through  the  window. 

"He  doesn't  look  much  like  a  bird  does  he,  unless  it's 
his  season  for  moulting,"  the  doctor  added,  turning 
from  him  to  Mrs.  Bibbins,  "but  I'll  stay  Frances,  thank 
you,  and  be  glad  to.  I  also  want  to  talk  with  you, 
Farmer  Bibbins,"  facing  him  once  more,  "but  it's  about 
another  matter.  You'd  better  let  the  Bird  in  or  he'll 
peck  a  hole  through  your  door,"  the  doctor  finished 
laughingly,  as  the  knocking  continued  with  increasing 
vigor. 

"I  was  jest  'bout  'ginnin'  to  think  'at  ye  wan't  goin'  t' 
let  me  in,"  the  newcomer  said  to  Mrs.  Bibbins  as  she 
opened  the  door  and  he  entered  from  the  wide  porch, 
"an'  I  aint  altogether  sure  I'd  blame  ye  a  hull  lot, 
Farmer  Bibbins  'f  ye  hadn't  neether,"  he  continued 
gravely  apologetic  in  manner. 

"I  wanted  t'— why,  hello  Doc,  how's— say  what  t' 
—whose  say  gol  dern  't,  how— Hell!  scuse  me,  Mrs. 
Bibbins;  but  by  gosh,  'f  Bo— Hey"  and  he  collapsed 
into  a  large  chair,  so  completely  "flabbergasted"  as  he 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  81 

expressed  it  a  few  minutes  later  by  their  troubled  faces 
and  the  doctor's  presence  that  "He  couldn't  hop  on  one 
laig,  much  less  fly,"  with  a  crestfallen  smile  at  the  at- 
tempt to  joke  at  his  own  expense.  Then  as  no  one 
spoke— for  they  were  quite  as  fully  embarrassed  by  the 
significant  fragments  of  his  speech  as  the  Bird  himself, 
but  stood  looking  at  him  with  evident  perplexity  of 
mind,  he  asked  of  Farmer  Bibbins: 

"Do  ye  mind  'f  I  say  't  afore  the  Doc?  I  jes  ez 
soon  ez  not." 

"No,  Bert,  certainly  not.  But  won't  you  have  dinner 
with  us?  Then  we  can  talk  afterward  if  it  will  keep. 
We  always  have  enough  for  one  or  two  more,  and  we 
should  be  glad  to  have  you  stay,"  Wood  said. 

"Twont  keep!"  he  exclaimed,  "'t  least,  I  can't  keep 
't,  'f  ye  don'  min'  my  tellin'  ye  afore  ye  eat.  An'  ", 
with  some  hesitation,  "Mebbe  ye  won't  be  s'  anksush  t' 
hev  me  stay  ez  ye  are  now,  after  I  hev,"  bitterly. 

"Why,  what  is  it?"  Frances  inquired,  anxiety  im- 
pelling the  question.  "What  have  you  done?" 

"Its  Bony,  taint  me  ez  don  't,"  he  shouted  out,  wild- 
ly. "Gol  dern  the  ole  Skeleton!  He's  talkin'  't  all  over 
the  hull  dern  naborhood,  an'  ef  he  hez,  Farmer  Bib- 
bins—  '  turning  from  Mrs.  Bibbins  to  her  husband— 

"Ef  he  hez  rooned  ye,  ez  he  sez  he  hez,  I'll— I'll — 
jest  bout  put  a  stop  t'  his  eatin'  straw  fer  one  while, 
dern  the  ole  skinflint,  and  I'll  shake  them  ole  bones  o' 
hisn  till  the  jints  won't  fit  agin  neether." 

"Come,  Mr.  Simmons,  don't  get  so  excited:  I  think 
I  know  why  you  have  come  to  see  Mr.  Bibbins,  but  it 
will  help  him  much  more  if  you  will  quietly  explain 
your  errand,"  the  doctor  interrupted.  For  Farmer 
Bibbins  was  too  depressed  at  the  moment  to  care  wheth- 
er he  heard  or  not,  and  offered  no  word  to  the  angry 
man.  He  already  knew  enough  about  it  to  satisfy  him 
for  a  while,  and  was  about  leaving  the  room  and  the 


82  FARMER  BIBBINS 

house  in  his  bewildered  condition  when  his  wife  stopped 
him. 

"Wood,  don't  take  it  so  hard.  You  are  forgetting 
your  dinner.  Hear  what  Bert  has  to  say  and  then  eat. 
He  may  have  good  news,  after  all,"  encouragingly. 
"You'll  break  down  completely  if  you  give  up  like  this 
the  first  day  of  the  fight,"  she  said  quietly  so  the  others 
would  not  hear.  "We've  got  each  other,  if  we  do  lose 
the  rest.  But— it  isn't  lost  yet,"  she  concluded. 

"Ets  jest  like  this,  nabor,"  began  Mr.  Simmons,  both 
legs  on  the  ground  by  this  time,  and  with  no  idea  of  fly- 
ing, except  into  anger  when  he  thought  of  Bony, 
"Hog  Lowton  ez  tellin'  every  whar  how  he's  got  the 
best  o'  ye  on  them  contracts,  Farmer  Bibbins,  coz  ye 
lost  sight  o'  the  fac'  o'  sixty  days  not  bein'  two  months, 
— jes'  same  ez  mos'  on  us  did  the  same  thin',  and  the 
same  way  too,  I  rekin." 

"Do  you  mean  that  some  of  you  did  discover  Mr. 
Bibbins'  error  in  speaking  of  the  limit  of  time  coming 
on  the  first,  instead  of  the  3ist,  Mr.  Simmons?"  asked 
Dr.  Gilbert  somewhat  heatedly  stepping  forward. 

"Yessir,  Doc,  that's  jest  it,  several  on  us  seen  it  and 
jest  t'  hev  a  good  joke  on  ole  Bony,  we  greed  to  say 
nuthin'  'tall  'bout  't  till  'bout  the  las'  thin',  an'  then  put 
Farmer  Bibbins  wise  t'  Bony's  scheme.  Ye  see,  one 
day  I  wuz  talkin'  t'  him  an'  he  gin  't  away  like;  nuff 
ennyway  so's  I  kot  his  pint,  arter  a  while,  and  tol' 
Lista  'bout  it  an'  she  sez,  sez  she,  'Bertie,  jes'  ye  see 
tother  fellers  what  allus  thot  well  o'  the  factory  idee, 
and  tell  em  on't,  an'  then  sen'  a  letter  to  Mr.  Bibbins 
'splainin'  the  hull  scheme  'ithout  tellin'  Bony  er  lettin' 
him  get  nary  idee  o'  what  yer  doin'.  'Twill  be  a  great 
joke  on  Bony.'  So  I  see  tother  fellers  and  they  thot  that 
'twas  great.'  Lista  written  the  letter  an'  about  dozen  on 
us  signed  't,  and  she  gin  't  t'  to  the  stage  driver,  the 
gol  dern  fool  — I  mean  the  driver,  not  Lista— t'  mail. 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  83 

An'  didn't  that  hoss-thief,  arter  readin'  the  name  ont, 
git  so  gosh  dern  cur'ous,  'at  when  he  seen  Bony  in  the 
road,  ez  he  druv  by  Bony's  house,  the  gol  dern  fool  hed 
to  ast  Bony  'f  twant  queer  'at  Lista  sh'd  be  writin'  a 
letter  t'  Farmer  Bibbins,  an  me  and  him  livin'  so  clost 
like!  Bony  must  hev  seen  suthin'  alright,  coz  he  ups 
an'  sez  he  t'  the  stage  driver  'what's  the  use  o'  sendin' 
on  it  way  round  from  Riverton,  't  not  bein'  mailed  nor 
nary  stamp  on't,  when  I'm  goin'  by  Bibbins'  t'  the  vil- 
lage right  off,  an'll  gin  't  t'  Farmer  Bibbins  myself,'  so 
he,  'meanin'  you  Farmer  Bibbins,  '11  get  it  'thout  waitin1 
all  day  fer  't.'  An'  the  dam  idjut  gin  't  t'  Bony,  an  he 
must  hev  read  't  and  stroyed  't,  coz  'twould  hev  set  ye 
right,  Mister  Bibbins,  ef  ye'd  got  't,  an'  Bony  couldn't 
hev  bin  tellin'  round  what  he's  tellin'  to  everybody  he 
sees  at  this  very  minit." 

His  crushed,  humiliated  manner  and  penitent  tone 
assured  the  three  listeners  of  his  sincerity,  at  the  same 
time  accounting  for  the  condition  confronting  them. 

Dr.  Gilbert  continued  as  spokesman;  "What  day  did 
your  wife  send  the  letter,  Mr.  Simmons?" 

"Twas  the  day  Bony  went  'way;  'bout  a  week  ago, 
mebbe  a  day  more  er  less,  I  dis'member  zactly." 

"Are  you  sure,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  that  no  such  letter  has 
been  left  here?" 

"Quite  sure,  unless  Mr.  Lowton  gave  it  to  some  of 
the  help,  and  it  has  been  forgotten.  But  they  will  be 
here  in  a  minute  for  dinner;  they're  in  the  wash-house 
now." 

"Farmer  Bibbins,  afore  eny  of  them  young  men  gits 
here,  I'd  like  t'  ast  ye,  ef  ye  still  want  me  t'  stay  t'  din- 
ner? Coz  ye  see,  I'd  jes'  ez  soon  ez  not  g'wan  'nless 
ye've  suthin'  ye'd  like  t'  say  t'  me."  And  the  Bird 
stood  up,  gently  turning  his  hat  in  his  big  hands  as  if 
it  were  a  wing  and  he  feeling  for  the  cause  of  its  limp- 
ness. 


84  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Of  course  I  want  you  to  stay,  and  the  wife  does 
too,"  catching  the  nod  she  gave  him,  "I  am  sure  you 
are  not  in  the  least  to  blame,  nor  your  wife.  If  I  am 
not  as  chipper  as  usual,  you  and  the  Doc  must  excuse 
me  for  I  am  pretty  well  crushed  both  ways.  But  here's 
the  help.  Let's  have  dinner." 

When  all  were  seated;  guests,  employers  and  em- 
ployees, at  one  long  table,  Mrs.  Bibbins  inquired: 
"Have  any  of  you,"  directing  her  question  to  the  help, 
"received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Lowton  within  the  last  ten 
days,  for  Mr.  Bibbins?" 

None  of  them  had. 

"You  are  sure?  It  is  very  important." 

They  were  sure.  None  of  them  had  seen  that  gen- 
tleman for  several  weeks  except  at  a  distance. 

Meal  time  on  the  Bibbins  farm  was  generally  char- 
acterized by  good  natured  banter  among  the  men; 
Farmer  Bibbins  and  his  wife  joining  with  the  others 
in  the  spirit  of  comradeship,  but  today  they  were  un- 
usually reserved.  The  doctor,  a  frequent  caller  at  such 
hours,  well  known  and  greatly  liked  by  all,  endeavored 
by  ready  wit  and  jibe  to  dispel  the  gloom  but  failed  to 
do  more  than  bring  a  half  hearted  smile  to  the  surface 
which  was  quickly  submerged  by  the  heart's  other  half. 
Frances  could  eat  nothing,  and  after  one  or  two  un- 
availing efforts  to  swallow  a  little  tea  she  made  some 
reasonable  excuse  and  left  the  room.  When  she  was 
gone,  and  the  meal  nearly  finished,  the  doctor  ad- 
dressed Farmer  Bibbins: 

"Wood  I  am  aware  of  your  custom  of  talking  over 
your  interests  with  those  in  your  employ,  and  knowing 
as  I  do  their  trustworthiness  and  loyalty  to  you,  I  fully 
approve.  More,  I  should  like  very  much  to  have  them 
hear  at  first  hand  all  you  have  expressed  to  me.  How- 
ever, if  I  am  unwarranted  in  the  request  do  not  hesitate 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  85 

to  say  so ;  I  am  not  sure  that  I  am  not  on  thin  ice  after 
all." 

"Tell  them  Doc,  I  wish  you  would.  They'll  hear  it 
from  others  anyway  and  I  prefer  to  have  them  know 
the  facts  as  you  know  them.  I  was  on  the  point  of 
asking  you  to  do  it  when  you  spoke." 

"Alright,  if  you  will  pardon  me  just  a  moment."  Ris- 
ing from  the  table  and  re-entering  the  other  room, 
where  his  coat  and  case  were,  he  took  a  number  of 
cigars  from  a  pocket  of  the  former,  and  turned  toward 
the  dining  room.  Hearing  a  sound,  he  stopped.  Look- 
ing in  the  direction  whence  the  sound  came,  he  saw 
Frances  lying  on  an  old  fashioned  divan  in  the  cosy 
little  room  with  the  fireplace.  She  was  crying  and  sob- 
bing as  only  a  woman  can,  when  the  cause  of  her  sor- 
row is  the  burden  of  the  one  she  loves.  Without  hesi- 
tation he  approached  her. 

"Frances  Bibbins,"  he  said  tenderly,  "I  am  not  ask- 
ing you  to  cease  weeping,  for  it  will  do  you  good.  Show- 
ers always  clear  the  atmosphere,  whether  they  come 
from  the  heavens  above  or  from  the  heaven  of  a 
woman's  heart.  So  cry  it  out.  But,  you  will  pardon 
my  intrusion  and  not  misunderstand  my  words?" 

She  gave  him  her  hand  in  token  of  each. 

"I  want  to  say  just  this.  You  have  no  other  cause 
for  tears  than  your  present  nervous  state.  You  are 
not  to  lose  this  farm  and  house;  not  if  it  takes  every 
dollar  I  have — and  I  have  quite  a  number— though 
not  one  of  them  will  be  needed,"  he  added  quickly,  for 
she  moved  in  protest.  "I  am  not  speaking  in  any  uncer- 
tainty in  either  matter,  but  with  the  firmest  conviction. 
I  don't  know  what  such  love,  this  love  of  yours  and 
Wood's  is— though  I  can  understand  what  it  means.  I 
have  never  loved  a  woman  except  my  mother,  since  I 
was  a  youth  and  am  therefore  ignorant  of  that  which 
lies  between  you  two— no,  not  what  lies  between  you, 


86  FARMER  BIBBINS 

but  that  which  makes  you  so  completely  one  that  noth- 
ing docs,  or  ever  can,  find  place  between  you.  But  if  I 
have  not  the  experience  of  your  hearts,  I  have  the 
theory  of  my  own,  and  it  tells  me  that  the  greatest  thing 
in  the  world,  and  the  world's  best  thing  is  Love.  Love 
like  yours,  like  your  splendid  husband's,  even  though  it 
is  that  very  love  for  each  other  which  is  causing  you 
both  so  much  present  suffering.  In  a  sense  I'm  glad," 
he  continued  after  a  while,  unconscious  of  all  save  his 
effort  to  give  her  of  his  best,  "glad  for  your  sakes, 
glad  for  my  own;  for  it  gives  back  what  I  have  long 
since  been  losing  in  my  round  of  work  among  the  body- 
sick  and  heart-sore — the  certainty  that  love,  love  like 
yours  and  Wood's,  does  exist  and  that  it  is  the  only 
thing  on  earth  worth  while.  I  have  thought  so  at  times 
though  not  often.  But  today,  when  face  to  face  with 
two  who  love,  I  have  seen  it.  I  know  it.  Your  faces, 
your  actions  have  told  me,  that  nothing— farm,  fac- 
tory, land,  nothing,  is  comparable  to  that,  which  God 
himself  can  not  take  away  from  you  for  God  himself 
gave  it." 

She  started  up,  but  he  gently  restrained  her.  "No, 
lie  there,  just  a  minute  longer.  I  want  to  tell  you  what 
I  mean.  You  remember  Peter  and  John,  and  the  im- 
potent man  at  the  Gate  called  Beautiful?  And  what 
Peter  said,  'Look  on  us,  silver  and  gold  have  I  none, 
but  such  as  I  have  give  I  unto  thee?'  You  do,  do  you 
not?  Well  to-day  I  both  saw  and  heard  that  very 
thing,  saw  it  and  heard  it  in  each  of  you;  'Silver  and 
gold  have  I  none  but  such  as  I  have,'  have  you  two  been 
saying  ever  since  Wood  returned.  And  as  you  know, 
I  said  it  was  the  most  beautiful  gate  in  God's  universe, 
—the  gate  of  a  human  heart!  Silver  and  gold.  What 
are  they?  Why,  they  are  only  the  things  that  have 
made  possible  through  one  man's  greed  and  another's 
generosity  this  vision  of  the  Gate  Beautiful  through 


"BONY"  EXPLODES  A  BOMB  87 

which  you  and  your  husband  have  passed  today;  and 
which  I  saw  open  before  you  as  you  entered  the  temple 
where  is  nothing  but  Love.  There,  dear  Frances,  I 
didn't  mean  to  preach,  though  I  had  to  tell  you  what  I 
saw,  and  that  it  is  of  more  value  than  much  gold.  Now 
cry  it  out  and  I  will  go  back  to  your  husband." 

"Not  till  I  say  God  bless  you  with  just  such  a  treas- 
ure as  I  know  mine  to  be,  Dr.  Gilbert,"  said  a  voice. 
And  the  doctor  turned  to  see  Farmer  Bibbins  by  his 
side.  Neither  he  nor  Frances  had  heard  him  enter 
though  they  both,  as  they  looked  at  him,  knew  that  he 
had  heard  it  all.  Grasping  the  other's  hand,  he  began : 

"Doctor,"  and  got  no  further. 

"All  right,  Farmer  Bibbins."  The  doctor's  eyes 
were  already  twinkling  with  merriment.  Releasing  his 
hand  from  the  crushing  grip,  he  looked  down  at  the 
woman  who  was  watching  them  both  through  her  tear- 
dimmed  eyes,  and  pressing  her  hand  to  his  lips  con- 
tinued : 

"If  I  have  been  the  means  of  preventing  any  unusual 
violence  between  you  two,"  Wood  was  kneeling  by  his 
wife  with  his  arm  around  her  now,  "or  of  bringing  up 
an  old  and  apparently  well  practiced  custom,"  as  he 
watched  them  smilingly,  "I  am  getting  all  one  short 
sermon  is  worth.  I'm  sorry  to  have  kept  you  and  your 
men  waiting,  but  to  speak  the  truth,  Farmer  Bibbins,  I 
am  rather  fond  of  your  wife,  and  was  trying  by  another 
method  to  do  what  you  are  doing  now,"  he  added 
laughingly  and  returned  to  the  dining-room,  his  hat  in 
one  hand  and  coat  in  the  other.  He  offered  the  cigars: 
to  the  men  who  were  awaiting  his  return  and  laughed 
when  they  looked  at  the  doctor's  intended  treat. 

"Well,  I'll,"— his  failure  to  notice  the  condition  of 
the  cigars  proved  the  depth  his  heart  and  soul  had 
sounded  in  his  recent  talk  to  Frances,  and  when  he  saw 
them  smiling  at  the  remnants  of  the  offering,  already 


88  FARMER  BIBBINS 

sacrificed,  he  said,  "Say  boys,  that  fool  boss  of  yours 
may  know  how  to  shake  hands,  but  he  does  not  let  his 
right  know  what  your  left  is  doing— at  times"  with  a 
lame  joke  to  prevent  their  guessing  his  discomfiture. 

"I'm  sorry  we  can't  smoke,  but  we  will  next  time  I 
come  this  way,  two  apiece  too,  to  make  up  for  these, 
which  I'll  give  to  the  stove." 

"Don't  do  that,  doctor;  give  them  to  Frank,  he  eats 
them,"  spoke  up  Charley  before  they  could  be  dumped 
on  the  coals  of  the  kitchen  stove. 

"All  right  Frank,  they're  yours  if  you  want  them." 

"Not  for  mine;  burn  'em  up,  Doc,"  then  to  Charley, 
"You  idgit,  I  never  chaw  terbakker,  an'  ye  know  't 
too." 

"Now  gentlemen,  let  us  go  out  to  the  barn,  I  want 
to  explain  what  has  come  up  to  trouble  Mr.  Bibbins 
and  his  wife.  Come — why  where  is  Mr.  Simmons?" 
he  asked  in  surprise  as  he  discovered  the  other's  ab- 
sence. 

"He's  gone  home,  I  guess;  not  feelin'  much  like 
warblin'  today,"  one  of  them  replied,  broadly  grin- 
ning." 


CHAPTER  VIII 
NEWS  OF  THE  TRAMP 

DR.  GILBERT  fully  explained  the  history 
of  Farmer  Bibbins'  efforts  and  recent  trou- 
ble with  Bony,  while  the  men  stood  around 
him  on  the  barn  floor  listening  intently  to 
the  recital,  and  in  conclusion  he  added;  — "You  see  your 
boss  is  in  a  very  serious  predicament  at  present.  He 
had  no  time  to  spare  in  the  first  place.  The  loss  in  time 
already  with  what  must  be  added  before  he  can  secure 
the  lumber,  or  get  the  logs  cut  at  the  mill,  is  more  than 
can  be  overcome  unless  his  every  friend,  above  all  you 
who  are  real  members  of  his  family,  his  only  family  in 
fact,  put  forward  your  best  efforts  with  all  your  loyal- 
ty back  of  them.  You  heard  what  Mr.  Bibbins  replied 
to  my  suggestion  to  talk  this  over  with  you,  and  I  have 
explained  as  fully  as  I  can.  Now  can  you  men  offer 
any  solution,  or  suggest  a  possible  means  of  overcom- 
ing this  most  infamous  scheme,  in  which  I  have  no 
doubt  many  besides  Lowton  are  interested?"  he  in- 
quired. 

"All  I  can  say,"  said  the  foreman,  who  being  the  only 
man  with  a  family  employed  on  the  farm,  occupied  the 
Staples  house,  "is  that  I'm  going  to  stand  by  him  till 
the  farm  goes,  if  that's  what  it  will  come  to." 

Then  after  a  short  pause,  "if  I  know  the  rest  on  us 
here,  we  all  mean  to  do  'bout  the  same  thing." 

"That's  right,"  the  others  spoke  up. 

"Just  what  I  had  expected,"  Dr.  Gilbert  went  on  af- 
ter each  had  expressed  himself  more  freely  but  to  the 
same  effect. 

89 


9o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Not  only  is  Farmer  Bibbins  the  most  loyal  farmer 
to  his  men  in  the  town,  but  he  has  the  best  and  most 
loyal  helpers  in  the  county,"  concluded  the  doctor,  start- 
ing for  the  house. 

"By  the  way,"  stopping  at  the  barn  door,  "I  won- 
der if  any  of  you  happen  to  know  what  brought  me 
over  here  without  a  horse?  No?  Well  your  neighbor, 
Mr.  Kendall,  has  a  tramp  working  for  him,  and  he,  the 
tramp,  broke  his  leg  this  morning  and  I  was  sent  for 
to  reduce  the  fracture.  That  will  bring  me  up  there  to- 
morrow evening  early  and  I'll  not  forget  to  drive  home 
this  way— for  a  little  smoke,"  laughingly,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  house. 

"Here,  here,  stop  that!  Do  you  want  me  to  forget 
that  a  woman  can  be  the  husband  of  but  one  wife?"  he 
exclaimed  confusedly,  on  entering  the  dining-room,  at 
\\$hich  Farmer  Bibbins  and  his  wife  burst  into  laughter, 
reluctantly  releasing  each  other. 

"You  better,  if  you  know  what  you  mean,  Dr.  Gil- 
bert," Frances  retorted.  "But  if  you  only  knew  how 
much  good  you  have  done  us  both,  you  wouldn't  care, 
if  you  forgot  everything  else.  We  were  going  to  eat 
something,"  she  continued  when  the  doctor  recov- 
ered himself.  Never  before  had  she  seen  him  confused 
and  it  did  her  quite  as  much  good  to  find  him  of  ordi- 
nary clay  as  it  was  doing  him  to  see  them  so  calm 
and  outwardly  happy  in  their  trouble. 

"I  don't  mind  joining  you  in  a  cup  of  coffee,"  he 
said,  seating  himself  with  them.  "I  think  none  of  us 
has  eaten  much." 

Then  addressing  Mr.  Bibbins  he  continued:  "I've 
talked  with  the  men,  and  can  say  only  this,  that  if  I 
were  a  farmer  I'd  have  every  one  of  them  away  from 
you  if  I  could.  They're  the  most  devoted  lot  of  em- 
ployees on  any  farm  in  this  whole  state,"  which  was 
quite  enough. 


NEWS  OF  THE  TRAMP  9 1 

"Frances  and  I  have  decided  to  look  cheerful,  Doc, 
and  feel  so  if  we  can.  I'm  glad  for  once  that  I  over- 
heard what  was  not  intended  for  my  ears,  and  I  would 
like  to  say — " 

"Nothing,  absolutely  nothing.  If  you  do,  one  word 
more,  I  shall  go.  I  don't  know  why  I,  that  is  I  was, 
Oh!  let's  forget  all  about  it,"  trying  hard  to  hide  his 
embarrassment.  "Any  man  of  pills  who  can't  keep 
such  things  to  himself  ought  to  be  made  to— take  his 
own  medicine,"  color  showing  through  the  deep  weath- 
er tanned  cheek." 

"I  want  to  talk  about  something  else,"  he  said,  put- 
ting down  his  cup.  "That  tramp  over  at  Kendall's 
broke  his  leg  this  morning.  It  was  to  set  it  that  called 
me  into  this  neighborhood.  Ordinarily  I  have  little  or 
no  use  for  men  of  his  kidney,  nor  am  I  sure  that  it 
wouldn't  have  been  better  for  all  concerned  in  this  par- 
ticular instance  had  the  fracture  been,  say  four  feet 
higher  up.  Do  you  know  anything  at  all  about  him?" 
abruptly  looking  at  Farmer  Bibbins. 

"Nothing  except  what  I've  heard  Charley  say.  How 
was  the  leg  broken?" 

"That's  just  it,  he  won't  say." 

"Won't  say?  Do  you  mean  he  will  not  tell  you  how 
it  was  done?"  Mrs.  Bibbins  asked,  putting  down  her 
cup. 

"Not  a  word.  That  is  what  I  meant,  in  part,  when  I 
spoke  of  the  possible  benefit  from  a  break  higher  up. 
He  couldn't  annoy  me  then  by  his  silence.  It  seems  to 
be  a  habit  of  late,  particularly  in  this  neighborhood, 
for  people  to  have  broken  bones  and  silent  tongues  at 
the  same  time.  If  it  continues  I'm  going  to  see  Elder 
Coffee  about  it.  By  the  way,  he  wants  to  have  a  talk 
with  you,  Farmer  Bibbins." 

"With  me?   Elder  Coffee?" 

"No.  the  tramp.  Furthermore,  he  doesn'twant  anyone 


92  FARMER  BIBBINS 

but  you  to  know  what  he  has  to  say  to  you,  and  strang- 
est of  all  is— and  it  is  all  most  unusual — he  doesn't 
want  anyone  to  know  that  he  knows  what  he  wants  to 
tell  you  he  knows,  or  to  have  them  know  that  he  wants 
to  tell  you  what  he  knows,  or  any  one  to  know  that  you 
know  that  he  knows  what  you  will  know  or  not  know, 
when  he  tells  you  what  he  knows.  Now  do  you  know?" 
And  the  doctor  roared  with  laughter  at  the  bewilder- 
ment written  in  Frances'  countenance. 

"Yes,  I  know  that  I  don't  know  what  he  knows 
and-" 

"Hold  on,  that's  enough  !  Think  of  your  wife.  I  did. 
That's  why  I  stopped." 

And  they  laughed  together  at  his  excuse  for  stop- 
ping. 

"No  one  could  believe  to  hear  us  that  Frances  and  I 
are  about  to  lose  all  we  have  saved  up,"  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  remarked  gravely. 

"You  are  not !  Nor  must  you  think  anything  of  the 
kind.  You  are  going  to  succeed.  Frances,"  looking  at 
her  impellingly,  "Don't  you  allow  him  nor  yourself  to 
apologize  for  laughing.  It  will  do  you  good.  It's  good 
for  any  one  troubled.  Why,  it's  good  for  me;  and  I 
haven't  a  trouble  on  earth  that  someone  else  hasn't  the 
first  claim  to,"  he  said  good-naturedly. 

"No,  I  will  not  apologize,  Doctor,  nor  will  Wood 
either.  But  what  do  you  suppose  the  poor  man  wants 
to  see  him  about?" 

"That  I  do  not  know.  I  do  know  however  that  I  am 
going  to  have  troubles  of  my  own  in  arranging  for  the 
meeting,  and  to  keep  the  others  away  while  your  hus- 
band hears  his  confession.  He  doesn't  want  Mr.  Ken- 
dall to  know  even.  I  will  try  and  have  things  ar- 
ranged for  your  seeing  the  tramp  by  tomorrow  night. 
I  have  promised  your  men  some  cigars,  which  gives  me 
the  opportunity  for  coming  here  to  see  you,  and  will 


NEWS  OF  THE  TRAMP  93 

drive  over  from  Kendall's  about  six.  If  you  have,  as 
you  informed  me  a  while  since,  anything  to  say  to  me 
about  your  own  affairs,  let's  hear  it.  I  must  return 
soon." 

They  adjourned  to  the  little  room  where  Frances  had 
a  fire  in  the  grate,  and  where  for  some  time  the  men 
sat  in  unbroken  silence.  Mrs.  Bibbins,  knowing  that 
Wood  would  tell  her  whatever  was  talked  over  between 
them,  remained  in  the  kitchen  and  helped  Maggie  with 
the  work. 

Their  cigars  were  quite  half  burned,  when  Farmer 
Bibbins  spoke: 

"Doc,  I  don't  know  where  to  begin." 

"Then  don't  begin,  for  when  a  man  has  no  starting 
point,  it's  pretty  certain  he  has  no  stopping  place  either. 
And  when  he  has  neither  one  there  can't  be  much  fill- 
ing in,  can  there?  Elder  Coffee  is  the  only  man  on 
earth  who  can  go  and  come  without  moving  or  get  any- 
where without  starting,"  laughingly. 

"That's  true,  in  a  sense,  with  me.  However  at  this 
moment  I  can  see  where  I  want  to  stop,  but  it's  where  I 
must  start  off,  if  I  make  a  start,  that  puzzles  me,  and 
that's  like  his  reverence  too,  only  he  is  never  puzzled." 

"I  think  I  understand  you.  You  mean  that  when 
you  have  said  all  you  have  to  say,  you  will  simply  have 
gone  around  a  circle,  is  that  it?" 

"Yes." 

"Then,  hang  the  circle,  there's  nothing  in  it." 

"Everything  is  in  it." 

"What?" 

"Everything,  yes.  In  the  first  place  there  is  my  con- 
tract with  more  than  forty  dairymen.  That  is  a  great 
deal,  though  it  is  only  a  small  part.  There  are  the  con- 
tracts with  the  six  men  in  New  York.  I  shall  lose  my 
bond  there.  I  have  already  ordered  the  supplies  for 
the  factory  and  power  plant,  including  the  turbine  and 


94  FARMER  BIBBINS 

dynamo.  My  logs  are  in  Bony's  mill  yard  and  pond, 
or  the  one  Bony  used  to  own.  I  have  already  paid  out 
a  good  many  hundred  dollars,  and  whether  I  do  or  do 
not  go  on  with  the  agreements  with  the  farmers,  I  am 
obligated  for  as  much  more  when  the  supplies  are 
ready  for  delivery.  And  more  than  all  that,  many 
times  more,  there  is, — my  wife." 

The  doctor  was  listening  gravely. 

"In  a  general  way  that  is  a  fair  inventory  of  my 
responsibilities.  And  if  these  were  all  I  could  meet 
them.  But  there  is  my  standing,  my  integrity,  my  hon- 
or with  my  friends  and  neighbors.  I  have  talked  the 
scheme  for  years,  and  have  influenced  a  sufficient  num- 
ber to  go  in  with  me  to  warrant  all  I  have  done.  Noth- 
ing visible  stood  in  the  way  of  success  to  our  hopes. 
And  now  all  because  several  years  ago  I  purchased 
with  the  fruits  of  our  labor  a  farm  coveted  by  another, 
we  both  are  on  the  brink  of  ruin." 

The  doctor,  quietly  smoking,  said  nothing.  He  was 
both  dreading  and  expecting  to  hear  what  was  the  mo- 
tive for  this  conversation,  and  was  somewhat  surprised 
that  its  mention  was  delayed.  For  a  while  there  was 
complete  silence.  Finally  Bibbins  resumed:— 

"I  suppose  I  could  before  the  agent  asks  for  the  re- 
newals," the  doctor  looked  up  quickly,  while  the  other 
went  on  "by  paying  the  signers  a  nominal  sum  get 
them  to  release  me;  but  only  a  few.  Many  of  them 
are  in  debt  and  have  been  for  years,  and  it  would  be  a 
double  opportunity  which  I  am  afraid  many  of  them 
would  grasp — unless  my  knowledge  of  the  average 
farmer's  mind  has  misled  me— to  make  a  sizable  pay- 
ment on  their  debts." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  the  doctor  interrogated. 

"Just  this.  Many  of  my  neighbors  are,  in  a  way, 
jealous  of  my  success.  I  heard  that  much  this  morning 
from  Bony,  though  I  can't  understand  why  they  should 


NEWS  OF  THE  TRAMP  95 

be.  Not  that  he  said  so  exactly,  but  from  what  he  did 
say  I  know  they  must  be.  In  a  way,  Bony  is  a  more 
popular  man  than  many  believe.  He  is  always  visiting 
and  having  visitors.  The  fact  that  he  has  aided  in 
bringing  about  the  change  among  those  who  for  years 
held  off  from  going  with  me,  proves  that  he  has  influ- 
ence among  my  patrons.  Besides  indirectly  he  told  me 
as  much  by  saying,  'we're  sick  an'  tired  ont!'  Sick  and 
tired  of  what?  'Of  my  crops,  buildings,  stock  and  in- 
creased acreage.'  Who?  'We,'— his  neighbors— my 
neighbors — the  men,  many  of  them,  with  whom  I 
have  contracted  for  milk.  And  last  but  not  the  least  of 
the  reasons  for  holding  me  to  the  penalties,  should  I 
ask  a  release,  it  will  bring  a  much  larger  sum  than 
many  of  them  ever  possessed  at  one  time  to  pay  on  their 
farm  mortgages.  All  this  is  quite  evident  to  me  though 
they  have  plenty  of  time  to  renew  with  the  agent  at  the 
Corners." 

The  doctor  had  to  speak  now. 

"Not  all  you  say  is  true,  Farmer  Bibbins.  You  for- 
get that  they  know,  or  will  know,  only  Bony's  side  of 
the  question  until  you  have  seen  them,"  delaying  the 
blow  he  knew  he  must  deliver  his  friend.  "Nor  will 
they  dare  renew  with  the  agent,  if  he  gives  them  an  op- 
portunity which  is  doubtful,  until  you  have  released 
them  from  their  agreement  with  you." 

"I  was  going  to  do  that  tomorrow." 

"No,  you  are  not.  You  are  going  on  with  the  fac- 
tory." 

"What?  you  know  I  can  do  nothing  of  the  kind! 
No,  wait,  I  have  no  material,  nothing  to  begin  with, 
but  unsawed  logs.  And  no  place  within  twenty-five 
miles  where  I  could  have  them  sawed.  Besides  there 
will  be  another  long  delay  in  hauling  them  to  another 
mill.  I  should  have  too  little  time  to  season  the  lum- 
ber, unless  I  built  a  drying  kiln.  I  might  succeed  if  I 


96  FARMER  BIBBINS 

had  the  lumber  and  the  kiln,  and  the  money  to  meet  the 
extra  expense,  which  I  have  not.  So,  you  see,  Doc,  1 
can't  do  it." 

"You  could  borrow." 

"I  should  have  to  anyway,  but  the  prospects  will  not 
warrant  any  extra  indebtedness." 

"Not  on  a  long  term  note?" 

"No,  I  have  fought  with  debts  all  my  life  until  the 
last  few  years.  I  can't  do  it  again." 

"But  you  will  lose,"  plead  the  doctor,  dreading  to 
begin  his  story. 

"If  all  has  to  go,  let  it  go,  I  shall  have  no  debts,  any- 
way," sadly. 

Dr.  Gilbert  was  sorely  troubled.  He  was  sure  that 
Farmer  Bibbins  was  not  aware  of  that  other  phase  of 
the  problem  which  was  going  to  make  things  more  than 
sure.  He  must  open  that  subject  himself,  much  as  he 
hated  to  crush  the  other's  hopes.  So  he  asked: 

"About  the  contracts  with  the  Company's  Agent, 
have  you  not  heard  that  he  has  advised  moving  the  sta- 
tion to  Keenville  since  learning  of  your  success  in  secur- 
ing the  contracts  for  the  milk  of  this  community?  No? 
Well,  he  has  persuaded  the  Company  to  move  the  sta- 
tion,, and  if  he  has  not  already  done  so  he  will  notify 
the  farmers  that  at  the  expiration  of  their  present 
agreements  no  more  milk  will  be  taken  at  the  Corners. 
It's  a  shame  that  I  have  to  bring  you  this  bit  of  bad 
news,  if  you  hadn't  heard  of  it,  for  it  only  makes  it  less 
possible  for  you  to  arrange  with  your  future  patrons.  I 
heard  of  it  some  days  ago," — giving  the  other  man  no 
chance  to  speak— "but  supposed  that  you  also  knew  of 
it,  else  I  should  not  have  spoken  as  I  did  a  few  mo- 
ments ago.  Your  face  says  that  you  did  not.  But  I 
had  no  suspicion  that  all  was  not  going  well  with  you, 
and  so  I  gave  it  little  or  no  consideration." 

Could  Bony  have  seen  Farmer  Bibbins  then  he  would 


NEWS  OF  THE  TRAMP  97 

have  known  that  not  only  was  he  broken  in  the  middle 
but  in  spirit  smashed  so  fine  a  sieve  would  not  have  held 
him.  Dr.  Gilbert  got  up  and  stood  by  the  farmer's 
chair. 

"Farmer  Bibbins,"  sympathy  ringing  in  his  words, 
"I  know  not  how  much  of  what  I  was  saying  to  your 
wife  in  this  room  a  little  while  ago  was  overheard  by 
you.  Nor  does  it  matter.  Among  other  things  I  told 
her  what  I  had  already  referred  to  when  you  first  re- 
turned and  I  said  I  was  going  to  enter  this  fight  myself; 
that  I  had  money,  considerable,  which  is  true.  But 
I  say  to  you  now,  that  I  am  rich,  quite  rich.  No  one 
knows  it  but  myself,  attorney,  and  bankers.  But  I  am 
not  boasting  of  it.  It  came  to  me  from  an  aunt  who 
died  years  ago.  I  have  never  used  it,  nor  any  of  its  in- 
come, for  I  have  had  no  need  of  it.  The  time  would 
come,  I  thought,  when  I  might  find  a  good  and  proper 
use  for  it.  My  work  has  been  more  than  adequate  in 
supporting  me,  and  the  other  money  has  been  for  many 
years  accumulating,  until  I  really  do  not  know  how 
much  I  have.  No,  listen." 

Farmer  Bibbins  was  rising  to  remonstrate,  but  the 
doctor  forced  him  back  into  the  chair  and  resumed. 

"I  am  going  to  put  at  your  disposal  any  sum  you 
may  require  to  draw  on  as  you  please.  Nor  will  I  listen 
to  any  remonstrance  whatever.  Some  day  I  will  tell 
you  why,"  as  the  other  began  protesting. 

"Then  you  will  understand  that  I  was  doing  the 
right  thing,  at  the  right  time,  and  if  you  are  half  the 
man  I  believe  you  are,  I  shall  know  that  I  was  doing  it 
in  the  right  way  and  at  the  right  place.  However 
enough  of  that.  Now  let  us  get  down  to  facts."  And 
Dr.  Gilbert  resumed  his  chair. 

"Got  more  than  one  pipeful  of  that  weed?"  inquir- 
ingly pointing  at  a  tobacco  jar,  all  seriousness  gone 
apparently,  "All  right,  thanks,"  he  said  when  Farm- 


98  FARMER  BIBBINS 

er  Bibbins  returned  the  jar  to  its  place  with  his  "kit." 

"Now  light  up,  and  sit  down  there.  I  want  you  to 
give  me  the  shortest  answers  you  can,  and  express  your 
meaning  at  the  same  time,  to  just  five  questions:— 

"Will  you  see  the  tramp?" 

"Yes." 

"Are  you  sure  Bony  told  you  the  truth,  the  whole  of 
it,  and  nothing  else?" 

"I  am  not  sure,  though  it  looks  like  it,  from  what 
Simmons  said." 

"Could  you  find  a  portable  steam  mill  anywhere  that 
would  cut  your  logs?" 

"No,  they  arc  not  large  enough,  or  powerful  enough, 
ordinarily.  To  find  one  with  sufficient  capacity  and  get 
it  placed  would  take  as  long  as  to  build  a  saw  mill  com- 
plete at  my  dam.  I've  thought  of  it  several  times,  but 
after  inquiring  at  Riverton,  gave  it  up  as  impossible." 

"Will  you  accept  a  loan  from  me,  or  use  what  I  de- 
posit to  your  credit?" 

"I  should  have  been  glad  to  borrow  from  you,  Doc, 
the  amount  I  was  intending  to  secure  from  the  bank, 
but  no  such  sum  as  you  have  offered  nor  in  the  way  you 
offered  it.  I  could  never  repay  it  if  I  did.  Besides, 
I  know  Frances  would  never  listen  to  it  for  a  moment." 

"All  right,  we'll  talk  that  over  later.  My  time  is  up 
and  I've  got  to  go.  Now  here's  the  fifth  and  last:  Will 
you  go  on  as  if  nothing  had  interfered  with  your 
plans?" 

Farmer  Bibbins  shook  his  head.  "I  can't  Doc,  I've 
nothing  to  go  on  with !" 

"You  have  seven  months  at  the  least.  Until  July 
first  you  can't  even  violate  your  contracts,  the  way 
they're  specified  prevents  that.  And  now  that  you 
know  the  station  is  to  be  closed  and  no  contracts  made 
with  any  of  the  old  patrons,  you  have  just  two  things 
left,  either  of  which  you  can  do,  and  one  of  which  you 


NEWS  OF  THE  TRAMP  99 

must  do.  You  can  go  on  and  make  good,  or  you  can  sit 
down  and  make  nothing— but  the  best  woman  in  the 
world  the  most  miserable.  It's  up  to  you  Farmer  Bib- 
bins.  You're  going  to  let  old  Hog— I  beg  the  pardon 
of  all  other  hogs— root  you  out  of  farm  and  home,  just 
because  you  feel  too  confoundedly  independent  to  ac- 
cept from  a  friend  what  you  will  have  to  take  from 
your  enemies?  Now  who  is  it,  Farmer  Bibbins,  Mr. 
Lowton  or  Mrs.  Frances?"  and  he  bowed  to  that  lady 
who  stood  in  the  door. 

Farmer  Bibbins  turned  around.    "It's  Frances,"  he 
said  and  burst  into  tears. 


CHAPTER  IX 
A  CHEMICAL  EXPERIMENT 

I'D  be  willing  to  break  that  tramp's  other  leg  and 
set  it  for  nothing,  if  I  could  do  that,"  the  doctor 
audibly  remarked    a   few    minutes    later    when 
walking  along  the  road  toward  the  Kendall  place. 
"And  if  it  were  only  our  old  friend  Bony,  and  the  frac- 
ture were,  say,  five  feet  further  up,  I'd  pay  double  my 
price  just  for  the  privilege  of  feeling  the  break  too,  to 
make  it  sure." 

"So  that  is  the  kind-hearted  and  left-handed  tramp 
of  my  young  friend  Charles."  The  doctor  was  putting 
away  the  usual  quantity  of  displaced  paraphernalia  in- 
cident to  an  evening's  work  in  his  office,  the  while  talk- 
ing to  himself.  He  was  cleaning  the  blade  of  a  small 
scalpel,  the  last  of  many  instruments  used  that  day,  in 
his  varied  practice,  when  the  waiting  room  bell  an- 
nounced another  caller.  Leisurely  replacing  the  blade 
in  the  morocco  case,  and  the  case  in  the  plate  glass  cab- 
inet, he  sat  down  in  his  large  chair  and  with  continued 
leisure  crossed  his  legs  over  a  tabouret,  took  a  large 
cob-pipe  from  a  nearby  drawer,  lighted  it,  and  began 
blowing  long  streams  of  smoke  into  every  part  of  the 
room.  Not  till  the  pipe  was  burning  hot  and  its  fuel  ex- 
hausted did  he  cease.  It  was  not  his  usual  method  of 
disinfecting  the  office  of  its  odors  carbolic,  iodoformic, 
and  other  kindred  fumes.  Opened  doors  and  windows 
were  the  rule,  proving  this  an  exception.  He  loved  a 
pipe  and  a  good  cigar,  but  to  smoke  not  to  burn  them. 
A  smile  however,  which  the  smoke  could  not  veil  or 
the  other  fumes  prevent,  lit  up  his  face  revealing  that 

100 


A  CHEMICAL  EXPERIMEN1          101 

somewhere  hidden  among  the  floating  clouds  within 
the  room  was  an  object  more  or  less  pleasant  to  his 
mind.  His  leisurely  unconcern,  when  some  one  who 
might  possibly  be  a  patient  was  waiting  in  the  outer 
room ;  the  manner  in  which  he  linked  his  fingers  across 
his  stomach  and  laid  his  head  back  on  the  cushion  of 
his  chair;  the  apparent  indifference  with  which  he 
thought  of  the  waiting  one — if  a  thought  he  gave  to  the 
waiting  side  of  it  at  all,  and  the  lazy  opening  and  clos- 
ing of  the  eyes  like  one  determined  to  sleep  yet  could 
not,  were  not  after  all  (though  aided  by  the  dense 
smoke)  sufficient  to  cover  the  merry  cast  of  face,  or  the 
softly  twinkling  eye  as  it  opened  and  glanced  about  the 
room.  Lying  back  thus  comfortably  thinking  and  all 
but  whispering  his  thoughts,  "Remarkable  thing,  per- 
sonality. It  can  neither  be  stayed,  nor  stopped,  nor 
stolen.  It  is  our  own  from  birth,  sometimes  until  a  long 
time  after  death,  and  is  never  exchangeable.  It  can't 
be  stayed,  for  the  last  ringer  of  that  bell  put  his  into  it, 
though  he  meant  not  to.  It  can't  be  stopped  for  he  has 
always  tried  to  stop  it,  but  it  came  with  him  as  certainly 
as  he  came  himself,  and  it  will  go  with  him  and  with 
him  will  ever  remain.  It  can't  be  stolen  or  exchanged, 
for  it  was  just  his  own  though  he  tried  in  the  ringing 
of  that  bell  to  do  it,  if  not  like  some  one  else,  certainly 
unlike  himself.  Without  reason  too,  that  is  without  any 
particular  reason,  but  if  he  had  one  it  is  only  the  same 
old  motive  actuating  every  move  on  his  checker  (d) 
board  of  life.  No,  no,  Elder  Coffee"  apostrophizing 
the  unseen  caller,  "until  you  change  completely  from 
heart  to  skin,  and  practice  much  better  than  you  will 
ever  preach—at  least  much  better  than  I  have  ever 
heard  you."  charitably  excusing  his  indictment,  "you 
will  never  ring  a  door-bell  in  the  hearing  of  men  who 
perceive,  without  announcing  just  plain  horse-trader 
Coffee.  It's  you,  Coffee,  just  you  out  there  and  none 


102  FARMER  BIBBINS 

other.  Your  personality  gives  you  away,  so  does  every 
man's.  Perhaps  though  you  can't  help  yourself.  Come 
to  think  of  it,  I  am  convinced  you  can  not,  though  you 
might  try,  Elder,  once  in  a  while.  I  do,  and  in  a  few 
minutes,"  glancing  around  the  room  to  see  if  the  smoke 
were  settling  to  stagnation  and  sniffing  to  test  the  acrid 
pungency  of  the  combination,  "I  shall  have  another 
trial  with  myself,  another  struggle  with  my  personality, 
and  I  shall  have  to  try  real  hard,  Elder  Coftee,  to  re- 
strain its  desire  and  keep  it  down.  For  the  moment 
I  see  you  sniffing  and  blinking  and  wheezing  in  this 
stifling  atmosphere — created  especially  to  emphasize 
your  welcome — I  shall  want  to  throw  you  neck  and 
crop  through  that  window  before  I  open  it  to  let  out 
this  other  stench.  For  I  cannot  long  endure  the  odori- 
ferous sanctity  of  your  presence,  Elder  Coffee." 

The  subject  of  the  doctor's  monologue,  the  Rev. 
Hosiah  Coffee,  pastor  of  the  Madran  Free  Methodist 
Church,  was  undeniably  a  self-made  man,  a  fact  of 
which  he  frequently  boasted.  Another  fact,  one  which 
he  never  mentioned  however,  was  that  the  work  had 
been  done  by  hand,  without  tools,  and  from  the  coars- 
est of  material.  He  also  boasted  that  he  had  lifted 
himself  from  the  ranks  of  sin  and  depravity  (pro- 
nounced daypravity  by  the  selfmade)  into  the  circle  of 
the  elect;  and  he  had  met  success  quite  as  fully  as  any 
man  can  who  does  the  lifting  on  his  own  boot-straps. 
His  education  was  like  himself,  handmade,  (certainly 
mind  could  have  done  little  of  the  work)  tool-less;  and 
was  of  the  crudest  matter;  still  there  was  a  certain 
though  indefinite  sense  of  power — most  handmade 
goods  do  have  strength— lurking  about  him  some- 
where. But  whether  it  was  the  loudness  of  his  voice, 
or  the  extraordinary  flow  of  language,  wonderfully 
used,  or  misused,  whichever  characterized  his  speech  in 
the  pulpit,  or  his  infinite  shrewdness  of  judgment  re- 


A  CHEMICAL  EXPERIMENT          103 

vealed  in  trading  horses  (his  favorite  pastime)  would 
be  difficult  to  determine.  But  the  difficulty  in  placing 
it  neither  veiled  nor  destroyed  the  evidence  of  its  pres- 
ence. With  the  sisters  of  his  own  and  other  congrega- 
tions, he  was  generally  popular.  "He  had  such  a  way 
with  him,"  they  said,  whatever  they  meant.  With  the 
brethren  it  was  much  the  same,  save  only  those  with 
whom  he  had  traded  horses— then  his  popularity  us- 
ually met  a  timely  death.  But  herein  was  his  shrewd- 
ness revealed;  he  seldom,  if  ever,  however  strongly 
tempted,  permitted  himself  to  trade  with  the  men  of 
his  own  church.  That  he  recognized  the  policy  of  this 
was  proven  once  when  only  a  matter  of  twenty-five  dol- 
lars stood  between  himself  and  victim  in  an  exchange 
of  horseflesh  and  he  refused  "the  boot."  The  other 
was  a  member  of  his  flock  and  the  fleece  of  thirty  dol- 
lars for  pew  rent  of  which  he  annually  sheared  him 
weighed  heavily  in  the  balance.  Had  the  exchange 
been  consummated  he  knew  the  next  year  "would  have 
found  the  fleece  wanting."  Besides  he  knew  of  an- 
other prospect  at  the  same  terms. 

Dr.  Gilbert  arose  and  went  into  a  little  alcove,  shut 
off  from  his  office  by  curtains,  which  contained  a  lounge 
and  another  large  and  easy  chair.  Drawing  close  the 
heavy  curtains,  he  gently  opened  the  window,  thrust  out 
his  head  and  taking  several  deep  inspirations  of  the 
cool  night  air  to  refresh  his  befogged  senses,  he  with- 
drew and  softly  closed  the  window. 

"Ah,  but  that  is  good,  some  different  from  this,"  he 
said  sauntering  back  into  the  office  where  the  pungent 
odors  of  drugs  and  smoke  were  smothering.  "It's 
strong,  but  not  quite  strong  enough,"  chuckling  to  him- 
self and  sprinkling  some  powerful  and  still  more  offen- 
sively stinking  liquid  on  the  rug  beneath  the  chair  in- 
tended for  his  guest.  Evidently  he  had  little  desire  for 
a  long  visit  from  the  one  outside. 


io4  FARMER  BIBBINS 

His  preparations  concluded,  he  opened  the  door  to 
the  waiting-room  where  sat  a  long  loosely  built  figure 
dressed  in  clerical— from  the  Methodist  point  of  view 
—garb,  consisting  of  frock  coat,  high  collar  and  bow- 
knot  tie  of  white  lawn. 

"Ah,  Elder,  it  is  you?  I  knew  some  one  was  wait- 
ing," suavely,  "had  I  seen  who  it  was  it  would  have 
been  unpardonable  in  me  to  have  kept  you  waiting. 
However  come  into  my  office.  I  have  been  making  an 
experiment  about  the  success  of  which  I  am  not  yet  as- 
sured," slying  winking  at  the  other's  back,  "though  I 
am  reminded  by  my  olfactory  organism  that  one  re- 
sult is  exceedingly  offensive,"  closing  the  door  and 
directing  the  man  on  his  way  into  the  stifling  odors  ot 
the  office. 

"Take  this  easy  chair,  Elder,  I  am  glad  to  see  you 
here  Mr.  Coffee,  and  hope  you  will  come  often,"  inter- 
nally laughing  at  the  other's  efforts  to  speak  and 
breathe.  "I  am  speaking  quite  unprofessionally,  be- 
lieve me,  for  I  was  quite  unconscious  of  how  that  might 
be  construed  until  the  words  were  out,"  growing  apolo- 
getic in  word  and  manner.  "An  exceedingly  poor 
though  significant  welcome,  you  will  think,  from  one  of 
my  profession  to  a  leading  citizen — a  man  who  is  pro- 
fessionally devoted  to  leading  us  other  citizens  aright 
— though  I  assure  you  the  words  came  from  my  heart." 
Just  what  he  was  trying  to  impress  upon  the  other  he 
scarcely  knew  himself.  The  effort  to  suppress  his 
laughter  while  slyly  watching  the  other  took  all  his 
strength  of  will  and  attention  of  mind.  In  a  few  min- 
utes the  Elder  was  sufficiently  acclimated  to  utter  a  few- 
words  to  explain  that  he  was  in  need  of  no  medical 
treatment  or  advice,  but  was  simply  paying  a  friendly 
call  upon  a  brother  humanitarian.  After  a  fit  of  cough- 
ing which  the  doctor  seemed  not  to  notice  he  added,  "I 
admit  that  there  is  (cough)  something  I  should  like  to 


A  CHEMICAL  EXPERIMENT          105 

talk  over  with  you,  Brother  Gilbert,  in  which  (cough) 
I  think  you  may  be  interested."  (another  cough). 

"I  am  sure  you  may  depend  upon  my  interest,  Elder, 
tell  me  about  it." 

"It's  that  hired-man  of  Brother  Kendall's  with  the 
broken  leg,  which  you  set  this  morning,"  panting  like 
a  tired  dog  in  the  effort  to  breathe  deeply,  without 
choking,  and  casting  appealing  glances  from  the  doc- 
tor to  the  closed  windows. 

"I  held  divine  service  in  the  schoolhouse  on  the  Creek 
(he  pronounced  it  'crick')  last  eventide,  and  spent  the 
night  with  Brother  Tallman.  That  is  the  reason  for 
my  being  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mr.  Kendall  so  early 
this  morning,"  apologetically  explaining,  though  the 
doctor  felt  assured  that  it  explained  nothing  but  anoth- 
er part  of  the  reverend  gentleman's  personality.  In  de- 
fiance of  his  reputation  for  verbal  fluency  and  county 
wide  fame  for  ability  to  talk  all  day  on  subjects  popular 
at  camp  meetings,  the  Elder  was  finding  it  difficult,  for 
reasons  other  than  the  condition  of  the  room,  to  pro- 
ceed. He  waited  hoping  the  doctor  would  speak.  The 
doctor  remained  oppressively  silent.  He  was  thinking, 
was  the  man  of  medicine,  that  the  Elder  was  character- 
istically reminding  him  of  the  vapid  inspidity  of  a  par- 
ticular beverage  when  not  properly  proportioned  in  its 
material  compound,  and  was  deciding  with  quiet  sat- 
isfaction that  in  the  problem  before  him  there  was  eith- 
er too  much  water  in  the  pot  or  too  little  coffee  in  the 
water;  concluding  finally  that  he  couldn't  decide  and 
that  having  volunteered  an  entrance  where  he  had  con- 
fessed no  direct  interest,  the  Elder  must  find  a  way  out 
without  assistance  from  the  doctor  or  else  proceed  un- 
aided. Either  way  he  was  discovering,  was  the 
Elder,  that  it  was  a  lone  hand,  though  the  mere 
thought  of  the  phrase  suggesting  as  it  did  the  picture  of 
men  with  cards  (or  was  it  the  fumes?)  caused  a  shud- 


io6  FARMER  BIBBINS 

dering  of  his  person.  But  whatever  it  was,  it  loosed 
his  tongue. 

"I  was  coming  down  the  hill  near  the  Kendall 
woods,"  he  resumed  in  deep,  hesitating  tones  without 
looking  at  the  doctor,  "about  seven  o'clock  this  morn- 
ing when  my  mare  shied.  I  haven't  owned  her  long 
and  was  not  on  to  her  tricks,"  lapsing  into  a  phrase  of 
his  "side  line"  which  he  discovered  too  late  to  correct. 
Hoping  the  other  had  not  noticed  it  at  all,  he  contin- 
ued, "And  she  nearly  upset  me  into  the  ditch.  When  I 
had  licked,  — a— ah— had  her  quiet  again,  I  drove 
down  to  Brother  Kendall's.  Leaving  her  in  the  barn  I 
returned  to  the  place  where  she  had  been  frightened,  to 
get,  a — a — my  hymnbook  which  had  fallen  from  the 
seat.  I  was  fearful  lest  the  mare  would  refuse  to  stand 
or  I  should  have  picked  it  up  at  first.  I  found  the  book, 
a  most  precious  volume  of  sacred  song  Brother  Gilbert, 
one  I  prize  much  beyond  its  intrinsic  value  would  merit 
because  it  was  a  gift  at  the  time  of  my  ordination  to  the 
sacred  ministry  and  my  constant  companion  through 
many  years  of  labor  in  the  vineyard  of  my  Master,  as 
well  as  the  source  of  much  comfort  and  strength,  not 
only  to  my  poor  weak  self  but  to  the  sin-sick  and  expir- 
ing when  from  its  inspirations  melodies  in  ministration 
to  the  afflicted  I  have  been  aided  to  lift  my  voice  in 
praise  to  our  Heavenly  Father  who  loves  us  to  that 
Superior  Being,  Brother  Gilbert,  in  whose  sight  we  are 
nothing  but  poor  crawling  worms  wriggling  our  way 
through  the  mire  of  daypravity  from  which  a  stench 
like  that  rising  from  the  valley  of  Jehosaphat  is  ever 
ascending  to  feed  the  wrath  of  a  justly  angered  God," 
pausing  for  breath  and  looking  down  at  the  rug  un- 
der his  chair  as  if  the  substance  of  his  somewhat  inco- 
herent simile  had  been  suggested  by  that  odorous  fab- 
ric. 

Covertly  glancing  at  the  doctor— who  was  endeav- 


A  CHEMICAL  EXPERIMENT          107 

oring  to  discover  the  relation  between  a  frightened 
mare,  a  hymnbook,  an  ordination,  the  sick  and  expiring, 
a  loving  Father,  a  supreme  God  of  wrath,  a  stench  ris- 
ing from  the  Valley  of  Jehosaphat,  and  a  tramp  with  a 
broken  leg— he  resumed: 

"In  recovering,  ah,  ah,  my,  a  — 'Sheaf  of  Wheat'  I 
discovered  something  else.  Something  so  startling  to 
my  sense  of  right  and  justice  that  I  all  but  dropped  the, 
ah,  ah,  the— ah— book,  and  was  beginning  to  ponder 
the  daypravity  of— 

Fearing  another  outbreak  of  the  Elder's  unpunc- 
tuated  eloquence  the  doctor  interrupted: 

"What  was  it  you  found,  Mr.  Coffee?" 

"A  tool  conceived  and  designed  for  honest  labor  by 
honest  men  though  now  stained  with  blood  and  bearing 
the  evidence  of  that  utter  daypravity— 

"Yes,  yes,"  impatiently,  "but  what  kind  of  a  tool?" 

"I  will  show  you  and  let  you  judge  for  yourself  if 
you  will  come  with  me.  I  did  not  bring  it  for  I  could 
not  again  stain  my  hand  with  such  conviction  of  carnal 
sin.  I  have  to  feed  the  sheep  of  my  Master's  flock  at 
a  love  feast  tomorrow  eve,  besides  I  cared  not  to  be 
seen  with  it,"  he  replied  seeing  a  way  of  escape  from 
the  sickening  vapors  of  the  office.  Dr.  Gilbert  ac- 
cepted the  invitation,  quite  as  willing  to  escape  not 
merely  from  the  fumes  but  from  the  gentleman  himself 
who  was  about  to  prove  the  success  of  his  experiment 
by  an  early  retirement. 

"Wait  a  second,  Elder,  I  have  here  in  this  cabinet 
the  material  of  that  experiment  I  mentioned,"  opening 
a  case  and  standing  between  it  and  the  other  that  he 
might  not  suspect  the  ruse.  Apparently  mixing  some- 
thing, but  in  reality  only  rearranging  some  of  the  vials, 
he  went  on : 

"It  has  worked  very  nicely  though  I  hope  you  have 
not  been  distressed  by  the  odors.  We  doctors  get  used 


io8  FARMER  BIBBINS 

to  them  you  know  and  perhaps  do  not  appreciate,  as 
we  should,  their  offensiveness  to  the  laity.  We  may 
open  the  windows  now  I  am  sure.  The  cold  air  will 
not  at  the  present  stage  of  action  affect  their  chemical 
union.  Then  if  you  should  care  to  return  with  me  we 
shall  have  an  odorless  room  to  sit  in."  He  was  sure 
there  would  be  no  return,  however. 

A  few  minutes  later  on  reaching  the  barn,  the  Elder 
pointed  to  the  space  back  of  the  buggy  seat  and  said, 
"It's  under  the  apern,  Brother  Gilbert.  I  do  not  care, 
for  the  reason  before  mentioned,  to  touch  it  and  should 
be  obliged  if  you  saw  fit  to  remove  its  corruptibility 
from  these,  ah,  premissaries."  This  was  exactly  what 
the  doctor  was  intending  to  do  should  it  prove  to  be 
what  he  suspected,  although  grateful  nevertheless  for 
the  timely  suggestion. 

"I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  do  that,  Elder,"  he  replied 
diplomatically,  I  do  not  see  why  it  should  particularly 
interest  me,  beyond  assisting  a  professional  brother 
from  a  difficult  and  annoying  matter.  But  we  will  see." 
He  lifted  the  cap  covering  the  buggy  box  and  drew  out 
a  bar  of  iron,  about  an  inch  in  diameter  and  three  feet 
in  length.  Holding  it  up  to  the  light  of  a  lantern  which 
Elder  Coffee  held  for  him,  he  saw  a  rough  rust  cor- 
roded spot  where  a  number  of  black  hairs  clung  tightly 
to  the  scales  of  rust,  and  one  small  stain  which  was 
doubtless  caused  by  blood. 

"What  do  you  make  of  this,  Elder?"  Dr.  Gilbert  in- 
quired, wondering  how  the  preacher  had  known  it 
was  a  bloodstain. 

"I  am  not  sure,  Dr.  Gilbert,  what  I  do  make  of  it. 
It  is  so  foreign  to  my  nature  and  sacred  calling  to  sus- 
pect another  fellow-being  that  I  have  formed  no  opin- 
ion as  to  what  I  shall  do,— that  is,— ah,— make  of  it," 
forgetting  that  his  suspicion  of  sin  and  crime  in  connec- 
tion with  its  discovery  as  unfolded  in  the  doctor's  office 


A  CHEMICAL  EXPERIMENT          109 

were  convicting  him  of  an  extraordinary  suspiciousness 
of  nature.  From  the  exercise  of  this  nature  his  sacred 
calling  had  evidently  not  exempted  him.  But  the  doc- 
tor only  winked  into  the  gloom  of  the  barn. 

"Since  calling  my  attitude  to  the  matter,"  said  Elder 
Coffee  with  solemn  dignity  after  they  had  mutually  in- 
spected the  piece  of  iron,  and  putting  the  burden  of 
suspicion  on  the  doctor,  "I  have  been  thinking  that  it 
may  have  some  bearing  upon  the  so-called  accident  to 
that  intolerating  Jew  peddler  you  operated  on  for  the 
removal  of  his  skull-bone,"  somewhat  exaggerating  the 
doctor's  surgical  deftness— for  which  he  may  be  ex- 
cused since  his  knowledge  was  limited  to  horseflesh  and 
the  multiplication  of  words.  "I  have  long  suspected 
that  it  was  a  crime.  In  fact  I  am  firmly  convicted  that 
it  was  from,  ah, — a — by  what  I  have  heard  and  seen." 

"What  have  you  heard,  or  seen,  Elder?  You  know 
I  attended  the  injured  peddler,  and  am  therefore  deep- 
ly interested  in  whatever  might  throw  light  on  his  in- 
jury." 

He  was  fully  aware  of  the  habits  of  the  Elder, 
whose  days  were  generally  occupied  in  driving  about 
the  county,  inspecting  his  flock,  and  its  commissary.  He 
also  recognized  the  extraordinary  ability  and  unusual 
opportunity  for  gathering  information  through  his  in- 
quisitiveness.  Dr.  Gilbert  was  thinking  hard  while 
awaiting  the  Elder's  statement. 

"You  will  understand,  Brother  Gilbert,  that  I  am  by 
nature  and  calling  both,  much  given  to  the  practice — I 
mean  I  am  not  in  the  least  by  nature  and  my  sacred 
calling  would  prevent  any  unseemly  curiosity  if  my  na- 
ture was  such"— hastily  correcting  the  truth— "of  the 
habit  of  prying  and  gossiping  so  frequently  found  in 
rural  districts.  It  is  the  most  discouraging  of  all  my 
sacred  calling's  trials,  and  they  are  like  the  sand  upon 
the  heavens  and  the  stars  in  the  seashore  of  life's,  ah— 


no  FARMER  BIBBINS 

a — ,  of  life's  troubled  waters,"  he  added  slightly  con- 
fused. "Why  they,  I  mean  the  ungodly  in  this  Chris- 
tian community,  have  taken  it  upon  themselves  to  cast 
dispersion  upon  my  name  and  character  even  when  I 
have  attempted  only  to  distract  myself  with  a  little  in- 
nocent diverting  of  my  sacred  calling  by  an  honest  ex- 
change of  man's  noble  friend,  his  neighbor's  horse, 
when  my  trials  have  borne  me  down  into,  ah,  a — the 
valley  of  the  Desolation.  But  to  resume,"  doubtless 
having  found  the  valley's  depth,  "I  have  seen  much 
and  heard  more  while  going  in  and  out  among  the  vic- 
tims of  that  accursed  daypravity  to  which  I  directed  at- 
tention a  moment  ago,  and  have  long  despised  all  over 
this  Christian  community  of  the  ungodly,  to  which  you 
Brother  Gilbert  render  a  kindred  service  to  mine,  of 
prying,  I,  ah  — ah  mean  going  in  and  out  among  the 
sick  and  broken  legged  and  headed,"  (meaning  the  Jew 
and  tramp  probably,)  "the  daypraved  victims  of  the 
unusual  daypravity  of  unselfishness,  in  this  godless  and 
sinless  community." 

The  doctor  was  becoming  desperate.  His  effort  to 
keep  from  laughing  at  the  Elder's  attempt  to  pass  the 
"diverting"  point  together  with  his  own  impatience  to 
hear  what  appeared  to  be  beyond  the  depth  of  the 
Elder's  flow  of  words — a  stream  which  was  rapidly 
becoming  muddier  as  the  current  increased— kept  him 
gazing  at  the  iron  bar,  without  looking  up.  He  turned 
toward  the  buggy,  and  said  suggestingly;  "I  have  a  call 
to  make  Elder,"  not  explaining  where,  and  hoping  the 
preacher  had  forgotten  his  words  on  leaving  the  office, 
"and  am  afraid  I  must  leave  you,  though  I  should  very 
much  like  to  know  what  you  have  seen  that  connects 
this  rod  with  the  tramp  at  Mr.  Kendall's,  and  hear 
what  confirms  your  suspicion  of  him  with  reference  to 
my  late  patient,"  opening  and  looking  at  his  watch  in 
a  fruitless  suggestion. 


A  CHEMICAL  EXPERIMENT 


in 


"Well,  Brother  Gilbert,  to  be  brief,"  he  hesitated 
long,  evidently  annoyed,  for  he  proceeded  with  difficul- 
ty—"I  saw  that  tramp  twice  on  the  day  the  Jew  was 
struck  on  the  head;  once  when  he  was  leaving  Farmer 
Bibbins'  barn  by  a  back  stable  window  late  in  the  after- 
noon, as  I  was  driving  by.  I  was  making  my  usual 
calls  on  the  members  of  my  flock  in  that  community, 
which  is  an  important  part  of  my  holy  ministry,  Brother 
Gilbert.  Brother  Lowton,  with  much  brotherly  good 
will  insisted  on  my  breaking  the  bread  of  Christian  fel- 
lowship at  the  mid-day  meal,  which  owing  to  the  many 
calls  occupying  my  time  I  was  most  reluctant  to  accept 
for  it  was  not  much  after  eleven,  and  I  was  anxious  to 
reach  Brother  Kendall's  where  I  usually  refresh  myself 
and  horse  with  rest  and  food." 

Mrs.  Kendall  was  famed  far  and  wide  for  the  merit 
of  her  cooking,  and  the  doctor  smiled,  for  Mrs.  Low- 
ton  was  famed,  otherwise;  but  the  Elder  continued:— 

"When  seated  at  the  table  at  Brother  Lowton's,  some 
one  knocked  at  the  kitchen  door,  Brother  Lowton,  who 
answered  the  knock,  pointed  to  a  man  much  dishevelled 
in  appearance  who  was  passing  in  view  of  the  windows 
toward  the  front  gate,  swearing  with  profane  profuse- 
ness  and  shaking  an  angry  fist  at  Brother  Lowton  who 
stood  in  the  doorway  bidding  him  depart.  He  was  the 
same  man  whom  I  saw  later  in  the  day  dropping  from 
the  Bibbins'  back  barn  window  where  he  lost  his  red 
handkerchief.  I  could  not  be  misunderstood  for  he  was 
a  most  worthless  specimen  of  that  unusual  dayprav- 
ity-" 

"Are  you  positive  it  was  the  tramp  now  stopping 
with  Mr.  Kendall?"  the  doctor  broke  in. 

"The  same.  I  have  seen  him  often  at  Brother  Ken- 
dall's where  I  usually  partake  of  the  mid-day  rest  and 
refreshment,  and — " 

"Are  you  sure,  absolutely  sure  that  it  was  he  whom 


ii2  FARMER  BIBBINS 

you  saw  dropping  from  a  rear  window  of  Farmer  Bib- 
bins'  barn  that  same  afternoon?  Remember,  Elder, 
much  depends  upon  what  you  tell  me,  and  the  certainty 
of  your  knowledge." 

"I  am  not  likely  to  forget  the  holy  vows  of  my 
sacred  office  taken  on  knees  that  seldom  bend  in  my 
humble  calling,  Brother  Gilbert,"  he  replied  with  af- 
fected dignity,  "nor  to  forget  the  inconsistency  of  a 
man  of  my  profession  trying  to  cast  disparagement 
upon  the  character  of  a  most  unfortunate,  ah,  um, — " 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Elder,  you  misunderstood  me, 
I  only  wanted  to  know  that  you  were  positively,  abso- 
lutely, sure  of  the  man's  identity  with  the  injured 
tramp  at  Mr.  Kendall's." 

"Very  well,  Brother  Gilbert,  I  freely  forgive  you," 
generously  reproachful.  "I  was  surprised  because  my 
sacred  calling  seldom  permits  my  being  spoken  to 
doubtfully,"  which  ambiguity  was  not  lost  upon  the 
doctor  who  thoroughly  believed  him. 

"If  you  will  now  tell  me  what  you  have  heard,  I 
will  go.  It  is  late,"  once  more  looking  at  his  watch, 
"the  call  you  know,  Elder." 

"I  have  heard  much,  Brother  Gilbert,  much  no 
doubt  irreverent  to  the  case,  but  to  be  brief,  that  is,  as 
it  were,  to  try  it  out  in  one  heat,  oh,  ah,  um,  I  mean  to 
give  it  all  in  one  sentence,  it  is  this :  People  think  some- 
one tried  to  murder  the  Jew  (a  very  hard  word  to  use 
Brother  Gilbert  but  in  this  case  the  pre-a-vailing  one) 
and  because  it  happened  in  the  Bibbins  barn  that  Farm- 
er Bibbins  and  yourself,  Brother  Gilbert,  you  must 
know  that  it  belongs  to  the  sacred  calling  I  profess  to 
speak  the  truth  errantly,  strike  whom  it  will,  Brother 
Gilbert,  though  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  opinion 
of  this  universal  daypravity  is  true,  only  that  I  am  con- 
victing you  that  I  am  speaking  the  truth  or  rumor  and 


A  CHEMICAL  EXPERIMENT          113 

trying  to  hush  it  up,  Brother  Gilbert." 

"You  mean?" 

"Nothing,  Brother  Gilbert,  nothing;  only  that  ru- 
mor so  states,"  quickly  drawing  back  from  the  doctor 
who  had  turned  toward  him  but  was  not  so  much  look- 
ing at  him  as  at  the  lantern  and  the  manner  of  his  hold- 
ing it  high  in  his  left  hand. 

"Well  Elder,  just  inform  your  friends  that  Mose 
himself  says  it  was  an  accident,"  continuing  to  look  at 
the  lantern,  "and  that  neither  Farmer  Bibbins  nor  I 
have  any  interest  beyond  his.  Now  do  you  wish  to 
look  at  your  horses,  Elder?  Because  I  must  be  going 
soon.  If  you  do,  I  will  hold  the  lantern  for  you,  I  nev- 
er permit  any  man  to  carry  one  around  my  stable  while 
doing  any  kind  of  work  alone,"  reaching  out  and  tak- 
ing it  before  the  Elder  could  object.  He  turned  to  the 
buggy  after  glancing  toward  the  stalls,  throwing  the 
light  around  to  aid  his  inspection. 

"That's  a  mighty  comfortable  looking  carriage  you 
have,  Mr.  Coffee,"  he  said,  completely  changing  the 
subject.  "I  should  like  one  of  the  same  style.  Is  it  a 
Maud  S.  ?  Or  a  Babcock?  Ah,  I  see,"  not  waiting  for 
an  answer  from  the  Elder,  "Maud  S.,"  inspecting  the 
nickel  plate  on  the  base  of  the  box.  "A  mighty  com- 
fortable rig,  I  should  say,"  now  looking  into  the  front, 
examining  the  dashboard  and  cushions  on  the  seat.  It 
was  only  for  a  moment  but  his  eyes  lingered  long 
enough  to  read  what  was  printed  on  the  paper  cover 
of  a  soiled  book  lying  on  the  cushion.  "A  mighty  fine 
buggy,  Elder,  I  think  I'll  have  one  next  spring." 

"Yes,  it  is  a  comfortable  rig,"  he  returned,  pleased 
with  the  other's  assuring  words  and  evident  admiration 
of  his  property.  "I  traded,  ah,  ah,  my  old  one,  and 
a — a — a  horse  I  had  no  use  for,  for  it,"  he  concluded, 
again  embarassed  as  he  realized  that  he  had  gone  too 


n4  FARMER  BIBBINS 

far  to  halt. 

"With  the  Company  at  Riverton?" 

"No,  no,  with  a  young  farmer." 

"I  see— by  the  way  young  Matt  Lowton  has  one 
like  it,  hasn't  he?" 

"No-t  that  I  know  of,"  hesitatingly,  "I  guess  I'll 
g-give  the  horses  a  little,  ah— hay,  if  you  will  hold  the 
lantern,  Brother  G— Gilbert."  Which  Brother  Gilbert 
obligingly  did,  having  learned  all  he  wanted  to  know 
except  if  a  certain  horse  were  in  the  stable,  and  much 
more  than  the  Elder  realized  he  had  told. 

"If  you  don't  mind,  Mr.  Coffee,  I  will  wrap  this 
up,"  picking  up  an  old  newspaper  from  a  low  bench, 
and  rolling  it  around  the  piece  of  iron,  "I  want  to  thank 
you  for  your  confidence,  and  your  call  at  my  office.  I 
am  sorry  to  hurry  away  so  abruptly  after  our  interest- 
ing conversation,  but  the  call  I  mentioned  must  be 
made"— ("tomorrow,  sometime,"  he  added  under  his 
breath,  and  then  aloud,)  "Good  night  Elder,"  and  re- 
turned to  his  office.  For  several  hours  he  smoked  nu- 
merous pipes  in  a  profoundly  thoughtful  mood  all  un- 
conscious of  the  fact  that  during  those  same  hours  a 
tall  shambling  figure  in  semi-clerical  dress  was  watch- 
ing his  office  from  the  shrubbery  across  the  street  until 
some  time  after  his  light  went  out. 


CHAPTER  X 

MIDNIGHT  MEDITATION 

WHEN  Dr.  Gilbert  re-entered  his  office,  sit- 
uated in  a  wing  of  his  dwelling,  he  closed 
the  windows,  drew  down  the  shades,  relit 
his  student  lamp,   and  then  sat  down  to 
think.     Having  lived  alone  save  for  his  servants  for 
many  years,  he  had  acquired  a  habit  which  he  called 
"the  mental  process  of  masticating  ideas  for  the  better 
assimilation  of  their  pabulum,"  the  principal  operation 
of  which  was  to  talk  quietly  with  himself  in  the  midst 
of  a  cloud  of  smoke.    Though  the  hour  was  approach- 
ing midnight  and  following  upon  the  heels  of  a  long 
and  serious  day's  work,  he  was  fatigued  in  neither  mind 
nor  body. 

"I  am  between  the  devil— you,  Elder  Coffee— and 
the  deep  sea,  the  shore  of  which  I  was  informed  to- 
night is  strewn  with  stars,"  he  commenced  laughingly, 
taking  up  a  favorite  cob  pipe  and  lighting  it.  "And  1 
am  wondering  just  now,"  seriously  reflecting  a  mo- 
ment on  the  trend  of  a  new  thought,  and  adjusting  his 
great  body  to  the  comforts  of  the  chair,  "how  I  am  to 
retain  my  position  a  little  longer  than  I  am  afraid  you 
Elder  Coffee  will  care  to  have  me.  Come  to  think  of 
it,  Reverend  sir,  there  are  several  things  of  which  I 
am  afraid,  though  my  fears  are  not  at  all  self-centered, 
Elder,  and  unless  you  have  a  center  which  is  to  be 
doubted,  I  fear  I  shall  fear  still  more.  You  are  too 
shifty,  Mr.  Coffee,  too  internally  dynamic  according  to 
the  Leibtnitz  theory—  (which  is  wrong— at  least  I  be- 
lieve it  is)  —but  I  must  not  deceive  myself  tonight,  not 

"5 


ii6  FARMER  BIBBINS 

for  your  sake,  if  I  am  careless  for  my  own.  To  place 
you,  to  find  your  center,  is  an  impossibility,  according 
to  the  theory  of — Gilbert.  I  must  know  certain  facts 
about  you,  Elder,  so  let  us  inquire. 

"Now,  for  you  I  am  afraid;  several  times  and  in 
several  ways  I  am  afraid  Elder,  and  principally  be- 
cause I  cannot  find  your  center  of  gravity.  Could  I 
only  retain  my  position  between  you  and  your  star 
strewn  seashore,  I  might,  in  spite  of  you,  prevent  your 
harming  yourself  through  your  efforts  to  injure  others. 
It  is  a  great  pity  that  you  are  so  completely  self-made, 
for  the  work  should  have  (I  am  not  certain  that  it 
could  have  from  the  material,  but  it  should  have)  been 
done  so  much  better  if  there  were  other  material  handy. 
However  if  I  could  only  discover  your  center  I  could 
find  your  radius." 

For  a  time  the  soliloquy  lapsed,  the  doctor  endeav- 
oring in  the  interim  to  assimilate  the  pabulum  of  his 
mastications  in  the  inevitable  cloud  of  smoke.  Then 
continued : 

"If  I  could  put  my  finger  on  a  certain  mis-named  and 
perverted  brain  cell  of  yours  my  good  man,  I  might 
know  why  you  had  so  much  to  say  about  a  book  ot 
sacred  song,  you  called  the  'Sheaf  of  Wheat.'  The 
real  title  of  which  is  'Adkins'  Home  Veterinarian'  and 
the  chief  treaties  of  the  book  is,  'The  Heaves,  and 
their  Rational  Cure,'  and  the  present  place  where  said 
book  may  be  found,  my  brother  of  the  sacred  calling, 
is  the  seat  of  the  Maud  S.  carriage,  formerly  owned 
by  one  Matthew  Lowton,  but  now  standing  on  the 
floor  of  your  own  barn  !  Ah,  Elder,  Elder,  I  am  afraid 
your  white  tie  is  the  only  badge  of  innocence  about  you. 
You  informed  me  that  the  losing  of  your  so-called 
'Sheaf  of  Wheat'  which  you  had  better  change  to  a 
'Sheaf  of  Tares'  (as  being  more  harmonious  with  your 
personality,)  was  the  cause  of  your  finding  this  iron 


MIDNIGHT  MEDITATION  117 

bar.  Now  are  you  not  again  speaking  the  truth  errant- 
ly, you  poor  crawling  worm  as  you  'wiggle  your  way 
through  the  mire  of  daypravity'  to  divert  me  from 
the  inerrant  truth  that  you  knew  it  was  there,  or  would 
be  there  when  you  wanted  it  all  the  while?  And  you 
dropped  your  'Sheaf  of  Tares'  for  the  double  purpose 
of  having  an  excuse — self-made  like  your  own  unsa- 
vory character— to  offer  the  Kendalls  should  they  in- 
quire about  your  return  to  the  Kendall  Hill,  and  of 
misleading  me  as  to  the  manner  in  which  this  iron  bar 
came  into  your  possession?  I  wonder  where  and  how 
you  did  obtain  it?  Then  too,  Mr.  Coffee,  you  not  only 
distract  your  own  soul  but  you  fail  to  divert  mine.  You 
are  neither  wise  like  the  serpent  nor  innocent  like  the 
dove,  else  you  would  not  have  come  to  me  with  that 
rusty  iron,  so  well  protected  from  the  elements  that 
for  two  months  wind  and  rain  have  been  unable  to  re- 
move these  black  hairs  and  their  white  companions 
from  under  the  flakes  of  rust.  And  more,  Reverend 
sir,  had  this  bit  of  metal  lain  exposed  to  the  dews  and 
rains  during  all  these  weeks  since  Mose  was  stricken 
it  would  have  been  stained,  not  only  in  one  spot  with 
blood,  but  all  over  with  red  rust,  for  such  is  the  nature 
and  color  of  the  metal  when  thus  exposed?  But  tell 
me,  dear  sir,  how  knew  you  that  this  stain  was  of 
blood?  And  why  did  you  tell  me,  if  you  did  know? 
Or,  if  you  did  not  know,  why  should  you  ever  guess? 
Now  Evangelist,  without  the  Spirit,  where  have  you 
kept  this  all  these  weeks?  In  your  buggy?  No.  In 
your  barn?  Hardly.  In  your  house?  Never  in  your 
house,  Elder,  not  where  your  home-keeping  wife  might 
find  it.  Then  where?  Come  now,  where?  In  rlv 
schoolhouse  on  the  Creek?  Not  there.  At  Tallman's? 
I  think  not.  Come !  Come !  You  honest  preacher, 
where  was  it?" 

"We  both  know  it  has  been  under  cover  since  the 


n8  FARMER  BIBBINS 

day  that  stain  was  made,  but  where  have  you  kept 
it  concealed  so  dry?  In  Kendall's  barn?  Ah,  was 
it?  Yes,  I  think  so,  I  am  sure  of  it,  in  Kendall's  barn! 
And  you  wanted  it  again  today,  but  why  today?  What 
for?  And  you  wanted  it  early,  before  the  men  would 
be  away  from  the  house  and  in  the  fields,  and  so  you 
dropped  your  'Tares,'  proceeded  to  the  barn  of  Mr. 
Kendall,  tied  your  horse,  found  the  rod  where  you  had 
concealed  it,  and  having  hidden  it  under  your  coat— 
you  could  you  know,  Elder  -you  returned  to  pluck  up 
the  'Tares'  as  an  excuse  for  finding  this  iron  bar  on  the 
Kendall  Hill!  Why  on  the  Kendall  Hill?  Because 
it  is  a  lonely  unfrequented  spot  adapted  to  your  plans ! 
Very  good,  you  poor  shepherd  of  daypraved  goats. 
They  should  butt  you  into  kingdom  come  unless  they 
fear,  as  I  do,  that  you  might  go  the  other  way.  Now !" 
unconscious  of  the  act,  as  he  was  of  the  man  watching 
from  across  the  street,  the  doctor  stood  up  and  with 
arm  extended,  pointed  straight  in  that  direction  as  if 
aware  of  the  man  hiding  there. 

"Now you  preacher  of  the  gospel  of  theNicolaitanes, 
why?  Why  in  Kendall's  barn?  Because  the  Kendall 
Hill  is  near  Kendall's  barn? 

"You  knew  that  Mose  came  down  that  road  on  that 
particular  day?  Why  pretend  to  have  found  it  in  that 
particular  spot?  Why  the  Kendall  Hill?  Why  Ken- 
dall's barn?  But  why  either  or  both?  Because  of  its 
nearness  to  Farmer  Bibbins?  Is  that  it?  Because  of 
the  tramp?  The  left  handed  tramp  who  works  for 
Mr.  Kendall  who  lives  on  the  cross  road  near  the  Ken- 
dall Hill?  Do  you  know  who  did  strike  the  blow  with 
this  iron,  you  white  liveried — ?  Oh,  just  sit  down,  doc- 
tor, you  are  too  excited  to  assimilate  the  mental  pab- 
ulum your  system  needs  so  much  more  than  it  ever 
did  in  your  whole  life  before,"  he  said  soothingly  to 
himself,  and  sat  down. 


MIDNIGHT  MEDITATION  119 

He  looked  at  his  watch  but  finding  that  it  had  run 
down,  re-wound  it,  went  to  the  diningroom  to  learn 
the  time  from  the  clock  and  then  returned  to  his  chair. 

"Twelve  o'clock,  what  a  lot  of  time  we  would  save 
if  we  would  only  wait,"  and  smiled  as  the  meaning  of 
the  phrase  became  clearer.  "Really,  I  am  becoming 
quite  a  philosopher,  but  then  it  is  the  time  to  philoso- 
phize," the  clock  was  chiming  the  hour. 

"If  you  will  kindly  be  seated  again,  Elder,  the  odors 
have  vanished  you  see,"  smilingly  philosophizing  anew. 
"I  have  a  few  other  inquiries  to  make  of  you.  Now, 
why  did  you  come  to  me  with  your  unsuspicious  per- 
son, and  then  so  completely  betray  your  suspicious  per- 
sonality? Why  did  you  not  bring  that  bar  with  you? 
You  would  have  saved  yourself  and  me  also;  yourself 
from  some  of  these  questions  with  their  possible  effect; 
me  from  the  trouble  of  answering  them.  Let  me 
tell  you  why?  You  came  because  for  some  reason 
you  were  afraid  of  me.  But  why?  Was  it  that  you 
knew  I  was  called  to  attend  the  tramp?  And  are  you 
afraid  of  him?  And  why  did  you  leave  so  much  un- 
said when  you  came  to  say  it?  And  how  could  you  so 
far  forget  yourself  as  to  take  me  to  your  barn?  If 
you  only  possessed  a  little  more  of  the  dove,  and  a 
little  less  of  the  serpent,  Elder,  say  something  nearer 
the  frog,  how  very,  very  much  better  for  you  it  would 
be.  You  could  still  travel  on  the  ground  if  you  cared 
to — I  have  seen  doves  doing  it— but  if  you  didn't  you 
might  rise  slightly  above  it  at  times  by  an  occasional 
hop,  skip  and  jump,  as  the  children  say,  which  is  the 
nature  of  the  frog." 

"I  understand  why  you  are  possibly  in  fear  of  the 
tramp  man  with  a  broken  leg,  for  while  he  could  not 
strike  you  now  with  an  iron  rod  he  might  with  an  iron 
will,  which  is  quite  as  effective  when  done  properly— 


120  FARMER  BIBBINS 

but  why  of  me?  I  would  never  touch  you,  never;  not 
even  to  shake  hands  could  I  prevent  the  necessity.  So, 
why,  are  you  afraid  of  me,  Elder  Coffee?  Thought 
you  that  I  might  make  it  warm  for  you  if  I  were  not  di- 
verted? That  it?  'Roast  you'  as  it  were?  No,  no,  my 
erring  brother,  Coffee,  like  you  is  not  worth  the  fuel  to 
either  warm  or  roast  the  second  time,  the  first  ruined 
your  flavor.  Come  to  think  of  it  though  it  might  pay 
to  burn  you  to  a  crisp,  as  you  will  be  some  day  if  there 
is  half  the  sulphur  in  a  certain  place  you  say  there  is ! 
Still  you  are  too  soggy  to  burn  and  too  much  burnt  to 
roast.  Wait,  we  are  getting  away  from  our  subject. 
I  asked  you,  you  shadow  of  a  man,  why  you  came  to  me 
with  your  iron  rod  and  shafts  of  suspicion  against  the 
tramp  ?  And  in  coming,  why  have  you  not  spoken  your 
mind  as  you  meant  to,  either  here  where  the  fumes  made 
it  difficult,  or  in  the  barn  where  the  darkness  should 
have  made  it  easy  to  a  man  of  your  caliber?  You  see, 
your  reverence,  you  cannot  evade  me  nor  escape  from 
that  chain  until  I  have  unburdened  your  soul  of  the  facts 
I  am  bound  to  know.  Now  this  is  the  last  call,"  con- 
tracting his  brow  in  deep  concentration,  "Why — did — 
you — come — to — me,  and  then  fail  in  your  errand?" 

He  paused  to  think. 

"Ah,  at  last  I  have  it,  as  I  told  you  before,  you  were 
afraid.  Not  so  much  of  me  or  of  the  gentleman  at 
Kendall's,  but  of  that  which  he  might  possibly  reveal 
to  me  during  my  care  of  him!  Now  where  did  you 
learn  of  the  tramp's  accident?  At  Kendall's.  You  were 
there  early  this  morning,  were  you  not?  How  long  did 
you  stay?  And  did  you  return  at  once,  after  tying  the 
mare,  for  the  book  on  the  Kendall  Hill  ?  You  did  not ! 
You  led  me  to  believe  it,  but  you  never  did.  Something 
happened.  Nor  did  your  horse  shy,  nor  did  you  go  to 
Kendall's  house  at  that  early  hour,  you  did  not  go  to 
the  house  at  all  until  after  I  was  called!  Lord,  but  you 


MIDNIGHT  MEDITATION  121 

do  puzzle  me !  I  cannot  make  you  out,  but  I  will,  Elder, 
some  day,  see  if  I  don't." 

The  doctor  paused  to  refill  his  pipe,  and  then  went 
on: 

"Anyway,  when  you  were  there  at  the  barn,  you 
learned  of  the  broken  leg,  and  in  your  fears  that  the  man 
would  or  might  confide  in  me  what  he  doubtless  knows, 
and  you  know  that  he  knows,  if  he  thought  he  were 
going  to  die,  you  planned  the  finding  of  the  rod  and 
purposely  dropped  the  book  to  mislead  Mr.  Kendall 
for  instance,  should  he  happen  to  notice  your  actions, 
and  that  accounts  for  the  red  dust  on  the  book  I  saw  on 
your  buggy  seat." 

Again  he  paused  for  several  minutes;  and  again  he 
said: 

"Ah,  Elder,  I  have  it,  you  didn't  tell  the  story  you 
came  to  tell  me,  but  in  your  efforts  to  divert  yourself, 
you  dropped  enough  fragments  in  the  smoke  to  prevent 
my  diversion  from  you,  you  jockey.  So  when  you  dis- 
covered that  I  had  been  at  Kendall's,  or  was  it  because 
you  knew  I  was  coming  back  in  the  afternoon  and  might 
learn  something?  Dear  me,  Elder,  you  are  such  a  false 
prophet  you  make  it  exceedingly  difficult  to  find  your 
center— you  just  thought  you  would  drop  in  here  late 
to-night  when  I  would  be  alone,  to  learn  what  and  how 
much  I  knew;  and  in  your  efforts  to  breathe,  the  one 
sole  object  of  your  call  did  crop  out  after  all !  Though 
you  changed  your  mind  for  some  reason  after  you  came, 
and  tried  to  conceal  it." 

"Mr.  Coffee,  you  expected  to  throw  suspicion  on  the 
tramp,  by  your  hand-made,  self-made  clue  when  you 
came  with  your  message  of  finding  the  bar,  did  you  not? 
And  you  would  have,  holy  man,  only  when  you  told 
me  that  'Sheaf  of  Wheat'  story  and  then  in  your  inno- 
cence permitted  me  to  enter  the  barn  where  that  car- 
riage at  once  set  me  thinking  and  the  sight  of  your 


122  FARMER  BIBBINS 

book  set  me  wise,  and  a  certain  horse  in  the  stable  made 
me  sure,  you  threw  my  suspicion  upon  that  self-same 
hand-made  clue  instead." 

Knocking  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  he  arose  and  once 
more  addressing  an  imaginary  clerical  presence  said; 
"You  may  go  now  and  prepare  the  Love-Feast  for  your 
flock.  Good  God!  I  beg  your  pardon,"  unconsciously 
inclining  his  head.  "That  was  almost  blasphemous, 
though  I  meant  not  to  be  irreverent,"  turning  his  head 
from  the  imaginary  presence,  with  which  he  had  been 
conversing. 

"I've  had  quite  enough  of  you,  you  horse-trading  dis- 
ciple of  Beelzebub,  for  one  night,  but  I  shall  have  an- 
other quiet  little  talk  with  you  ere  long,  never  fear.  I 
must  complete  the  circle  of  your  radius,  which  I  shall 
when  I  hear  what  my  patient  has  to  say  to  Farmer  Bib- 
bins,  and  what  Mr.  Kendall  has  to  say  to  me,  then  I 
shall  quickly  find  your  center,  you  shifty,  soggy,  fang- 
less  wolf  with  a  bark  that  frightens  the  sheep  only  be- 
cause it  comes  from  within  sheep's  clothing.  When  I 
do,  well  your  quarterly  feast  tomorrow  night  will  be 
about  the  last  of  your  spreading  for  this  flock  unless 
the  Lord  prefers  those  who  climb  up  some  other  way. 
But  if  I  know  Him  at  all,  He  prefers  the  one  who 
doesn't  climb  to  enter.  Good-night  Elder,  I  must  have 
a  little  nap,  for  the  day  and  its  work  will  soon  be  here." 

For  perhaps  ten  minutes  he  lay  quietly  with  his  eyes 
closed,  trying  to  rid  his  mind  of  its  late  unwelcome 
guest,  but  evidently  without  success  for  at  the  expiration 
of  that  period  he  suddenly  sat  up,  slapped  his  knee,  and 
spoke  aloud. 

"Oh,  but  I  have  you  now,  Elder  Coffee;  twice  have 
you  failed  today.  Once  in  your  visit  to  me  tonight, 
and  once  when  you  were  at  the  Kendall  Hill  earlier  in 
the  day.  You  would  never  have  referred  to  that  spot  if 
you  had  not  failed  in  some  attempt  there.  I  wonder 


MIDNIGHT  MEDITATION  123 

what  it  was?  I  don't  know,  Elder,  but  I  will  bet  you 
another  'Sheaf  of  Wheat'  that  whatever  it  was  you  at- 
tempted you  were  frightened  away  before  you  succeed- 
ed, and  by  some  one  we  both  know.  You  are  sure  that 
someone  will  tell  me  about  it,  and  now  you  are  afraid 
of  him.  So  you  came  to  me  first,  to  forestall  the  other 
fellow.  Anyway,  I  have  you  now,  Elder,  and  to  prove 
it  I'll  be  asleep  in  five  minutes." 

Two  minutes  later  he  was  sleeping  profoundly. 


1 


CHAPTER  XI 
"THE  BIRD"  FORGETS 

departure  of  Mr.  Simmons  from  the 
circle  of  help  awaiting  the  return  of  Dr.  Gil- 
bert and  Farmer  Bibbins,  was  so  suddenly 
conceived  and  carried  out  that  he  was  on  the 
highway  before  he  realized  the  abruptness  of  his  act. 
Even  then  there  was  no  sense  of  discourtesy  in  his 
mind,  nor  thought  that  others  might  find  it  in  his  con- 
duct. His  conception  of  the  idea  compelling  him  to 
leave,  had  been  so  startling  in  its  annunciation  and  so 
compelling  in  its  action  that  he  was  actually  passing  the 
gate  from  the  Bibbins  yard  to  the  main  road  before  it 
occurred  to  him  that  he  had  eaten  his  dinner,  risen 
from  the  table,  found  his  hat,  secured  his  team  and 
was  driving  away  without  so  much  as  volunteering  a 
single  word  to  a  person  present,  since  taking  his  chair 
at  the  table.  He  remembered  replying  to  one  or  two 
questions,  that  was  all.  In  spite  of  the  serious  subject 
of  his  thoughts,  and  the  still  more  serious  realization 
of  them  if  put  into  practice,  the  possibilities  of  which 
were  occupying  his  attention,  he  laughed  sheepishly  as 
the  hub  of  the  hind  wheel  caught  the  gatepost,  and  in- 
stantly subsided  as  if  rebuked  for  mistimed  levity. 

"Wall  I'll  be  gol  derned,"  he  said  with  solemn  earn- 
estness, "if  I  dunno  nothin',  nary  body  doz.  Yere  I 
be  drivin'  'long  here  an'  I'll  be  hornswaggled  'f  I  know- 
ed  when  I  started,  'r  how  long  't  tuk  me  t'  git  away 
'r  t'  git  through  'at  ere  gate,"  looking  back  at  the  open 
space.  "Wuz  I  ketched  'r  wuzn't  I  ketched?  Dernd'- 
nif  I  dunno.  Thar's  space  enuf,  'f  I  wuz  a  drinkin' 

124 


"THE  BIRD"  FORGETS  125 

man  I  spose  I'd  be  laffin'  at  myself,  coz  I  got  ketched 
er  didn't  git  ketched,  but  I'll  bet  ye  don'  ketch  me 
laffin'  agin  till  I  git  this  thin'  offen  my  min'.  G'lang, 
gol  dern  ye !  Yer  so  dum  slow  '£  I  didn'  make  ye  try 
t'  run,  ye'd  be  goin'  backwards,  by  gosh." 

He  was  rapidly  approaching  the  Kendall  Hill  when 
he  spied,  some  distance  ahead  of  him,  and  stooping 
low  in  the  grass  and  bushes  on  the  left  side  of  the  road, 
a  tall  figure  dressed  in  black.  The  man's  clothing  con- 
trasted so  strongly  with  the  many  colored  autumn 
leaves  lying  about  on  the  dull  earth  that  the  Bird  slow- 
ed down  to  a  walk  the  better  to  observe  the  actions 
of  the  man  whom  he  easily  recognized  as  the  Reverend 
Hosiah  Coffee.  Evidently  the  stooping  figure  had 
neither  seen  nor  heard  the  approaching  team  until  it 
was  close  by,  then  he  straightened  himself  quickly  and 
stepped  back  into  the  road,  so  completely  disconcerted 
in  manner  that  his  stammering  attempt  to  greet  the 
driver  naturally  placed  its  embarrassment  upon  that 
gentleman's  lips  also,  who,  in  turn,  forgot  the  other 
gentleman's  sacred  calling,  and  returned: 

"Wall,  Elder,  what  'n  Hell's,-"  and  stopped.  Mr. 
Simmons  was  not  an  adept  in  profanity.  It  was  only 
when  surprised  beyond  the  control  of  speech  that  any- 
thing stronger  than  his  "gol  dern"  and  kindred 
phrases  escaped  him.  Therefore  he  was  more  severely 
shocked  by  this  break  than  the  minister,  who  however, 
it  seemed  to  Bert,  appeared  not  to  notice  it.  Ordin- 
arily a  long  sermon  on  profanity  would  have  succeeded 
such  an  irreverent  response  to  his  greeting,  but  now  for 
the  moment  it  passed  without  admonition  or  comment, 
much  to  the  surprise  of  the  Bird.  He  endeavored  to 
find  suitable  words  with  which  to  further  address  Mr. 
Coffee  before  that  gentleman  could  begin  the  expected 
homily,  but  his  mental  state  rendered  this  so  difficult 
that  he  gave  it  up  and  watched  the  other's  face,  dis- 


126  FARMER  BIBBINS 

torted  with  fear  and  surprise,  while  awaiting  the  re- 
buke; but  the  preacher  failed  to  preach. 

Things  were  reaching  an  acute  stage  with  the  farm- 
er. Unless  some  one  other  than  himself  spoke  soon, 
something  was  liable  to  happen.  The  Elder  finally 
recovered  himself,  but  not  sufficiently  to  prevent  a 
wandering  tear,  so  lonely  in  appearance  and  so  emaci- 
ated in  form,  that  when  it  came  out  into  the  light  of 
day  and  the  shade  of  his  shaggy  brow  it  resembled  far 
more  a  moist  accumulation  of  dust  or  ashes  than  the 
liquid  emblem  of  grief  and  joy. 

"I  was  searching  for  a — for  something  I  lost  near 
here  this  morning,"  the  Elder  was  saying  in  explana- 
tion of  his  previous  groping  in  the  brush,  when  the 
Bird  came  out  of  the  semi-trance  of  staring  in  his  effort 
to  comprehend  the  minister. 

"Lose  suthin'  did  ye  say?"  immediately  and  sympa- 
thetically interested  and  happy  to  find  himself  once 
more  relaxed,  "  'at's  bad,  Elder;  hope  twant  nuthin'  ye 
couldn't  git  'long  'ithout.  I've  hearn  tell  'at  when  them 
campmeeters  useter  hoi'  Vival  meetins  in  these  yere 
woods,  lots  o'  folks  what— what  might  it  a  ben,  Elder, 
'at  ye  lost?"  finding  himself  on  thin  ice  for  the  Elder 
was  known  throughout  the  county  as  one  of  the  great 
advocates  of,  and  preachers  at,  the  kind  of  meetings  he 
was  about  to  deride. 

"Thar's  one  thin'  he's  lost  and  'nother  thin'  he  can't 
find,"  he  warbled  to  himself  while  watching  the  minis- 
ter's efforts  to  control  his  emotions  (but  whether  to  sub- 
due or  to  exaggerate  them,  Mr.  Simmons  was  unable  to 
decide)  "an  'f  he  don't  pick  up  one  or  tother  purty  soon, 
I'll  be  droppin'  suthin  I  won't  fin'  neether  till  Lista  cur- 
rys  my  ha'r  t'night,"  smiling  a  rebuttal  of  his  fears  in 
anticipation  of  his  wife's  evening  effort  to  brush  the 
ragged  kinks  from  his  bushy  head. 

To  the  preacher,  who  caught  the  pleased  expression 


"THE  BIRD"  FORGETS  127 

on  Bert's  face  but  misunderstood  its  cause,  it  came  like 
an  electric  shock  with  instant  effect.  The  Elder  froze 
into  the  rigidity  of  a  statue.  Like  most  prophets  he 
was  not  only  without  honor  in  his  own  country  and 
among  his  own  people,  but  like  all  false  prophets  he 
was  without  honor  everywhere  and  knew  it;  hence  his 
rigid  pose,  always  typical  of  the  man  who  assumes  a 
dignity  he  does  not  possess. 

"Brother  Simmons,"   he  exclaimed   in   a    sepulchral 
tone.     "If  your  unseemly  levity  does  not  include  your 
right  to  the  title  of  Christian  fellowship  from  a  man 
of  my  sacred  calling,  then  what  does?"     Thus  inter- 
rogatively transforming  his  original  rebuke.     "I  have 
long  known  you  were  an  ungodly  breaker  of  the  Sab- 
bath by  your  unhallowed  wanderings   and  dickerings 
among  your  ungodly  kind,  but  always  believed  you  a 
true  believer  at  heart,  until  your  present  mocking  of  a 
grief  you  perceive  though  you  know  not  its  cause  which 
is  not  in  the  least  surprising  for  it  must  be  too  plainly 
apparent  to  one  who  thinks  his  ungodly  smartness  is 
the  result  of  a,  a,  ah,  generating  suspicion  of  a  man 
of  sacred  office !"    His  words  were  quite  as  breathless 
as  incoherent;  but  only  for  a  moment,  did  he  pause. 
"Brother  Simmons,"  glancing  at  the  grinning  man,  but 
with   fear   in  his   eyes,   though  he  was  so   artificially 
frozen   by  his   assumption   of  outraged   dignity,   that 
nothing  but  the  temperature   of  his  passion— for  he 
was  angry  as  well  as  scared— prevented  his  speaking 
in  pieces  of  ice  in  place  of  broken  sentences.     "Brother 
Simmons,  for  I  will  not  restrain  myself  from  degrading 
you  by  the  title  of  Christian  fellowship  which  belongs 
to  my  sacred  calling— I  am  surprised  beyond  my  nat- 
ural contempt  of  power  to  express  myself  calmly  and 
truthfully  in  your  ungodly  presence  when  I  see  you 
laughing,"   (The  Bird's  face  was  expressive  of  almost 
anything  but  mirth.)   "at  the  misfortune  of  a  brother 


128  FARMER  BIBBINS 

who  denounces  you  from  his  heart,"  inserting  a  hand 
to  grip  himself  somewhere  near  the  left  kidney  and 
holding  the  other  high  above  his  head,  "for  your  god- 
less, unhallowed,  and  untimely  joy  at  my  loss  of  a,  a, 
ah,  a,  sacred  'Sheaf  of  Wheat,'  which  somewhere  on 
this  road  of  sin  I  lost  this  morning  early,"  he  conclud- 
ed, metrically  strong,  but  weakly  dramatic. 

"Sakerd  Sheaf  of  Wheat,  Elder?  Road  o'  sin  in  the 
early  morin'?  You're  sure  got  me  both  sides  o'  the 
fence  t'  oncet,  Elder,"  good  naturedly  passing  over 
the  tirade  against  himself.  It  was  only  the  attitude  of 
the  preacher  that  interested  him.  Had  he  tried  to 
follow  the  words,  he  would  have  learned  only  what  the 
other's  manner  told  him  anyway.  To  him  they  meant 
nothing.  A  feeling  of  pride  in  being  addressed  by  a 
peer  in  the  use  of  language,  though  that  peer  was 
scared  first,  and  angry  second,  restrained  his  sense  of 
all  but  the  Elder's  perturbation. 

"  'F  ye'd  jes'  shed  a  leetle  ray  o'  light  on  that  loss 
o'  yourn,  Mister  Coffee,  mebbe  I  cud  see  't,  better  'n 
I  kin  now,"  dropping  the  lines  and  starting  to  get 
down.  "I  don'  jest  unnerstan'  how  ary  one  kin  lose  a 
bundle  o'  wheat  on  a  road  like  this,  when  the  bresh 
anint  nary  higher  'n  the  bundle  'd  be  itself;  but  we 
may  ez  well  take  a  look  'roun.  Whar's  yer  horse  'n 
buggy?"  He  asked,  dropping  to  the  ground  and  look- 
ing up  and  down  the  road  and  in  the  fields  in  search  of 
the  missing  rig. 

"He's  in  Brother  Kendall's  barn,  Mr. — Brother 
Simmons,"  changing  his  tactics  and  placidly  address- 
ing Bert  with  diminishing  anger.  He  was  too 
badly  frightened  (as  a  possible  result  of  Bert's  assis- 
tance dawned  upon  him)  to  keep  his  anger  and  out- 
raged dignity  up  to  the  high  pitch  on  which  he  had 
started. 


"THE  BIRD"  FORGETS  129 

"You  don't  understand,  Brother  Simmons,  when  I 
said  'Sheaf  of  Wheat,'  I  meant  the  title  of  a  precious 
volume  of  song,  a  gift  from  my,  a — a— ah,  saintless 
mother,"  pleased  with  himself  and  his  ready  answer, 
"at  the  time  of  my  ordination  to  the  sacred  ministry. 
It  was  her  last  token  of  maternity,  for  she  gave  it  to 
me  when  her  lids  were  about  to  close  in  the  last  and 
final  sleep  of  the  blessed,"  crossing  his  hands  and 
casting  a  boorish  eye  skyward,  the  while  desperately 
trying  to  force  another  dessicated  drop  from  under  the 
eaves  of  his  sloping  brow. 

"I  thought  ye  sed  'twas  at  yer  ordnashun,  she  gin  't 
t'  ye?" 

"Before,  Brother  Simmons,  just  before,"  hastily  cor- 
recting any  wrong  impression.  "I  was  about  to  leave 
her  to  presume  the  vows  of  my  sacred  calling,  Brother 
Simmons.  My  premature  statement  must  have  been 
inadvertently  dropped,  or  perhaps  you  misunderstool 
me  in  that  as  you  did  about  the  volume  of  praise  it- 
self?" he  interrogated. 

"P'raps,"  was  all  that  Mr.  Simmons  found  to  say. 
He  was  thinking,  was  the  Bird,  thinking  deeply;  so 
profoundly  in  fact  that  his  mission  over  this  road  was 
losing  place  in  his  mind,  and  soon,  if  not  recalled  to 
him,  would  be  displaced  by  the  perplexing  problem 
arising  from  this  chance  meeting  with  the  preacher. 
His  was  a  simple  yet  wise  intelligence,  like  the  wisdom 
of  all  intelligent  men.  To  accept  him  for  a  fool,  would 
have  been  most  foolish.  He  was  illiterate,  to  be  sure, 
but  his  illiteracy  was  only  the  result  of  an  untrained 
mind;  not  because  he  had  no  mind  to  train.  His  every- 
day-alike disposition,  his  happy-go-lucky  character,  his 
natural  gentleness  of  manner,  characteristically  unwill- 
ing to  wound  either  mind  or  body  and  his  alert  sympathy 
for  the  young  and  weak  were  as  clearly  emblematic  of 
his  intrepid  personality  as  his  great  body  was  indicative 


130  FARMER  BIBBINS 

of  fearless  physical  strength.  Dressed  in  plain  homely 
raiment,  of  course  jean  cloth,  once  blue  and  patchless 
but  now  patched  and  blue-less,  yet  always  clean,  with 
his  straight,  broad  and  compact  body  he  contrasted 
strongly  with  the  black-clothed,  shambling  figure  of  a 
man  who,  while  clean  of  dress  (save  his  cobweb-cov- 
ered hat)  appeared  dirty,  acted  dirty,  was  dirty, 
within,  and  standing  on  the  dirty  road  seemed  a  part 
of  it  despite  his  better  clothing. 

"Elder,  I'm  'ginnin'  t'  think  'at  ye've  los'  suthin' 
sides  yer  bundle  o'  wheat,  in  fac'  I  think  'f  ye  look  in 
'at  off  pocket,  in  the  hind-side  tail  o'  yer  coat  ye'll  fin' 
't  alright;  not  the  suthin'  else,  but  the  Bundle  o' 
Wheat,"  he  said  correctingly,  his  clear  blue  eyes  scorch- 
ingly  turned  upon  the  other,  causing  the  Elder's  to 
roam  in  a  wandering  search  of  everything  in  the  ho- 
rizon above  and  the  earth  beneath  visible  to  the  eyes, 
before  turning  them  towards  Mr.  Simmons  feet  where 
they  rested. 

"Taint  xactly  my  natural  callin'  t'  preach — cause, 
ye  see,  Elder  I  ain't  bin  ordained  much — but  jest  the 
same  I  kin  talk  a  leetle  in  a  open  meetin'  like  this  o' 
cum  'thout  gittin'  skeered  clar  outn  my  boots,  an,— 
iio  ye  don',  Elder"— as  the  preacher  attempted  to 
pass  him— "ye  air  jest  goin'  t'  listen  t'  me  for  'bout 
two  jerks  o'  a  lam's  tail  — an  mebbe  then— an'  so  I'll 
jest  stiddy  ye  fer  fear  what  I'm  'bout  t'  say  might  make 
them  legs  o'  yourn  sum  totterin'."  Taking  him  in  his 
big  powerful  hand,  which  closed  like  a  vise  upon  the 
frightened  -preacher's  shoulder— "Ye  needn't  be  nun 
skeered  Elder,  'cos  ye  see  I  ain't  hankerin'  nun  t'  sile 
both  han's  t'  onct  on  ye,  though  I  kinder  guess  mebbe 
I  wud  like  t'  give  ye  one  jest  t'  smooth  the  wrinkles 
'n  yer  face,  and  mebbe  gin  ye  a  little  more  color,  'f 
twant  fer  yer  white  tie,  an'  what  it  Stan's  fer.  But 
taint  ye  .nun,  Elder,  'at  I'm  hesitatin'  'at,  on'y  jest 


"THE  BIRD"  FORGETS  131 

what  'at  air  tie  Stan's  fer,  an'  yer  age  too,  mebbe,  jest 
a  leetle. 

"No,  nor  taint  'at  neether  ez  is  what  I'm  wantin' 
t'  testify  on  'zactly;  but  I  tho't  mebbe  'f  I  tol  ye  'at 
ye'd  sorter  unnerstan'  what  tiz  an'  how  I  feels.  Now 
'f  ye  think  ye  kin  stan'  'ithout  hitchin',  I  don'  min,  let- 
tin'  ye  try  it  oncet,"  releasing  him  and  thrusting  his 
own  hands  into  the  pockets  of  his  jacket,  "but  don'  try 
t'  do  nothin'  skittish  cos  I've  bin  breakin'  horses,  young 
and  ole,  all  my  life,  an'  knows  how  t'  bring  em  up 
stannin'." 

"Now  this  is  what  I'm  wantin'  t'  tell  ye;  ye've  bin 
purty  consid'able  cu'ous  o'  late  trin'  t'  fin'  out  suthin' 
taint  nun  o'  yer  gol  dern  bizness  t'  know,  ye  unnerstan'? 
I've  seen  ye  comin'  an'  goin'  twixt  an'  'tween  Bony's 
an'  Kendall's  purty  offen  o'  late,  moren  yer  bin  in  the 
habit  o'  doin'  till  suthin'  happened  in  this  naborhood, 
suthin'  ye  kin  call  t'  mind  I  guess.  No,  taint  that 
zactly,  though  I  kinder  b'leve  'at  'at  hez  suthin'  t'  do 
'ith  't  arter  all."  The  "suthin"  was  indicated  by  the 
minister's  gaze  which  he  now,  with  blanched  face,  turn- 
ed toward  a  figure  standing  near  the  gate  in  front  of 
the  Kendall  premises. 

"Ye  needn't  git  skeered  Elder,  cos  I  ain't  goin'  t' 
say  nuthin'  'bout  the  hired  gal  thar,  nor  when  she  use- 
ter  work  for  Bony,  nuthin'  on'y  to  ye  pussonal  like,  so 
ye  kin  look  at  my  boots  agin  'f  ye  wan'  t'  ez  she's 
goin'  in." 

The  Elder  was  completely  staggered  at  the  inference 
drawn  by  Mr.  Simmons,  coming  as  it  did  upon  the 
other  more  nerve  shattering  statements  of  this  meet- 
ing. Only  the  timely  support  of  Mr.  Simmons'  hand 
once  more  holding  him  saved  him  from  collapsing  into 
the  road.  He  was  aware  of  but  one  person  who  had 
heretofore  known  of  his  attentions  to  the  young  wom- 
an referred  to  and  that  one  he  believed  had  been 


i32  FARMER  BIBBINS 

quieted  and  sent  out  of  the  way  with  no  possible  danger 
to  himself.  He  wanted  to  plead  for  mercy  at  the  feet 
of  this  young  giant  who  held  him  upright  as  easily  as 
he  would  have  supported  a  fence  stake,  but  no  word 
could  he  utter.  He  was  so  crushed  in  spirit  and  so 
forsaken  by  his  former  freezing  dignity  that  the  heart 
of  his  tormentor  was  pityingly  melting  in  quite  the 
same  degree  as  his  own  slowly  dissolving  figure. 

"Stan'  up,  Elder,  er  sit  down  'f  ye  can't  stan',  any 
way  ye  like  to  suit  ye,"  and  the  preacher  sat  down. 
"I'm  nearly  threw  'ith  ye  now,  so  don't  worry  nun," 
he  said  consolingly,  "I  ain't  goin'  t'  give  ye  'way  not 
'tall  'bout  'at  gal.  Yer  sakerd  callins  goin'  t'  stan' 
in  the  way  'f  yer  inclined  t'  let  it.  I  on'y  wan'  t'  say 
t'  ye,  'at  ye've  gotter  keep  yer  gol  dern  noze  out'n  the 
'fairs  o'  Farmer  Bibbins,  d'ye  hear?  I  cud  a'  toP  'bout 
'at  gal  long  'go,  but  twant  nun  o'  my  bizness  to  kerrect 
a  man  o'  yer  sakerd  callin."  So  all  ye  gotter  do  iz  jes' 
min'  yer  own  bizness  yereafter,  an'  let  Farmer  Bibbins 
'lone,  unnerstan'?" 

"I'm  tellin'  ye  twict  'bout  't,  an'  onct  'bout  Doc  Gil- 
bert. Ye  might  beat  ary  one  on  'em  in  a  hoss-trade  e? 
ye  did  me  onct.  But  in  tother  thin's  ye  ain't  no  match 
fer  enybody  but  the  on'y  friend  ye  got  lef,  an'  the  one 
ye  talk  so  much',  an'  so  scandlous  'bout  fum  the  pul- 
pit." 

He  looked  down  at  the  minister,  sitting  in  the  dust 
of  the  highway,  with  real  sorrow  for  the  man  whose 
spirit  for  the  time  at  least  was  completely  broken;  and 
by  him  whose  mind  took  no  pleasure  in  inflicting  pain. 

"I'm  sorry  I  had  t'  tell  ye,  Mister  Coffey.  Taint 
'cordin'  t'  my  likin'  nun;  an'  I  wudn't  o'  dun  it  'f  I 
hedn't  knowd  ye  wuz  a  Ivin'  'bout  'at  bundle  o'  wheat 
bigness.  I  seen  ye  puttin'  't  in  yer  pocket  fore  ye  seen 
me  comin'  tow'ad  ye,  an'  ye  wuz  so  gosh  dern  skeered 
like  'bout  suthin'  ye  gin  yerself  way." 


"THE  BIRD"  FORGETS  133 

Then  thoughtfully;  "  'f  ye  don'  min'  nun,  I'd  like 
fer  't  say  'at  I  ain'  never  bin  ole,  an'  am  now  young, 
but  Ve  nary  seen  the  righteous  forsakin'  nor  the  young- 
uns  scattered  by  the  roadway,"  I  hearn  Lista  read 
suthin'  like  it  out'n  the  Bible  las  night,  ('t  kinder  made 
me  think  o'  Farmer  Bibbins  like,)  jes'  fore  she  curried 
my  har.  'At  was  my  testimony  I  callated  t'  gin  ye  'at 
this  yere  meetin'  an'  nothin'  more,  on'y  ye  wuz  so  dum 
skeered,  I  a'most  disremembered  t'  tell  ye.  So  long, 
Elder.  Don'  get  afeard  o'  me  sayin'  nuthin'  'bout  ye, 
cos  the  fac'  ez  I  don'  like  the  taste  o'  ye  in  my  mouth 
nuff  t'  spile  the  taste  o'  tother  thin's  fer  a  hull  day. 
G'lang,  gol  dern  ye,"  this  to  his  team. 

He  clucked  to  his  horses  and  started  on,  head 
thoughtfully  inclined.  Then  suddenly  drew  rein  once 
more  looking  back  where  the  Elder  was  now  standing 
in  the  road,  he  called;  "Say  Elder,  I've  los'  suthin'  my- 
self by  gosh,  right  yere.  An'  taint  what  I  was  thinkin' 
I'd  lose  neether,  when  I  'gun  to  talk  t'  ye,  gol  dern  it. 
What  in  tunkett  wuz  it?"  now  ignoring  the  preacher, 
and  again  starting  the  team.  "Wall  I'l  be  gol  derned," 
he  said  to  himself  after  driving  some  distance,  "ef  I 
didn't  cum  way  fum  Farmer  Bibbins  to  do  suthin' 
'thout  knowin'  when  I  done  't,  an'  now  I'll  be  gol  dern- 
ed 'f  I  ain't  gone  an'  f  ergot  what  'twas  I  wuz  'goin' 
t'  do!" 


CHAPTER  XII 
IN  WHICH  DR.  GILBERT  MOUNTS  GUARD 

DR.  GILBERT  came  for  Farmer  Bibbins  the 
following  afternoon  a  couple  of  hours  earli- 
er than  he  was  expected.     They  were  about 
beginning  the  milking  at  the  Bibbins  farm 
when  he,  evidently  in  great  haste,  pulled  up  his  horse 
at  the  gate  and  standing  up  in  his  carriage  like  a  great 
boy,  called  his  friend.    Just  then  Wood  appeared  with 
his  arms  loaded  with  pails  proceeding  barnward. 

"Just  a  moment,  Mr.  Bibbins,  I  want  to  see  you 
when  you  have  relieved  yourself  of  those  pails,"  he 
shouted. 

"All  right,  Doc,  I'll  be  there  in  a  jiffy." 

"Can  they  spare  you  in  there,"  pointing  to  the  stable, 
"tonight?  I  want  you  to  go  over  to  hear  that  tramp's 
confession  now;  I'll  explain  on  the  way  if  you  are  not 
absolutely  needed  for  the  milking,"  he  said  when 
Wood  came  down  to  the  gate. 

"Of  course  they  can  spare  me  if  it's  necessary.  It 
means  only  a  couple  of  extra  cows  for  each  of  the 
milkers.  But  what's  changed  your  plans  Doc?  I 
thought  you  were  not  coming  until  about  six." 

"We  will  talk  of  that  later.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kendall 
are  at  the  village.  That  leaves  only  the  help  at  their 
place  and  it's  the  opportunity  we  want.  The  servant 
girl  will  be  the  only  one  not  milking,  and  with  both  of 
the  Kendalls  away,  things  are  going  to  work  out  as 
finely  as — they  sometimes  do,  Farmer  Bibbins.  And 
as  yours  will  too,  I'm  sure.  By  the  way  I  want  to  un- 
fold a  tale  to  you  later  concerning  them,  but  not  now. 

134 


DR.  GILBERT  MOUNTS  GUARD       135 

Time  is  precious.     Get  your  coat  and  come  on." 

Farmer  Bibbins  hastily  changed  his  overalls  for  an- 
other suit,  and  was  about  to  step  into  the  buggy  when 
the  doctor  spoke; — 

"Wouid  you  mind  holding  this  mare  about  two  min- 
utes? I  want  to  get  down,"  proceeding  to  do  it  while 
asking  the  favor.  "Be  back  again  soon,"  he  said  and 
started  for  the  barn  around  the  north  side  of  which  he 
quickly  disappeared.  The  two  minutes  lengthened  in- 
to ten  before  he  reappeared  on  the  other  side.  Wood 
was  wondering  about  this  excursion  around  the  build- 
ings— the  doctor  being  in  such  apparent  anxiety  to 
reach  the  Kendall  house  before  its  owner  should  return 
from  Madran — and  decided  to  recall  the  point  to  the 
doctor's  attention.  Just  then  Dr.  Gilbert  returned. 

"I  informed  your  wife  and  help  that  you  would  not 
return  for  a  couple  of  hours,"  he  explained  to  Farmer 
Bibbins  as  they  drove  away. 

"Glad  you  did,  Doc;  I'd  forgotten  all  about  it,  and 
Frances  would  have  worried,  but  that  didn't  take  you 
ten  minutes.  Why  did  you  go  all  that  distance  around 
the  barn  when  they  were  right  by  the  door  at  this  end 
of  it?"  He  asked  the  question  wonderingly,  and  yet 
he  believed  he  knew  the  reason. 

"I  admit  my  telling  them  was  merely  incidental.  I 
was  both  ignorant  and  curious  about  something  I  wish- 
ed to  make  sure  of  and  while  satisfying  myself  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that  possibly  you  might  have  forgotten  to 
inform  your  unfortunate  and  sadly  neglected  wife  of 
your  intended  absence.  So  I  left  word  for  you.  Also 
I  wanted  to  tell  Charley  I  would  be  back  with  the 
promised  cigars  later.  We  are  going  to  have  a  smoker 
tonight,  you  know.  Now  do  you  feel  satisfied  that  you 
know  all  about  it?  I  have  long  believed  you  were 
jealous  of  me,  Farmer  Bibbins,  and  since  I  caught  you 
eavesdropping  yesterday  I  am  sure  of  it,"  he  replied 


136  FARMER  BIBBINS 

with  assumed  gravity. 

Farmer  Bibbins  merely  laughed.  "Well  if  Frances 
were  what  she  is,  and  I  were  you,  and  you  were  me, 
wouldn't  you  be  if  you  caught  me  holding  hands  and 
talking  a  lot  of  loving  stuff  through  the  Gate  Beautiful 
with  her?"  he  asked  laughingly. 

"No,  not  with  Frances  what  she  is,  I  wouldn't,  would 
you?" 

"Lord,  no!  I  didn't  think  of  that  side  of  it.  Doc, 
I  wonder  how  I  ever  came  to  find  such  a  woman  will- 
ing to  marry  me?"  thoughtfully. 

"It's  only  the  last  half  of  your  question  Farmer, 
that  puzzles  me." 

"How's  that?" 

"Frances  marrying  you?" 

"You're  wise  in  some  things  beside  pill-making  all 
right,  Doc,  but  to  change  the  subject,  I'd  like  to  know 
what  you  don't  nevertheless." 

"What  do  you  mean;  you're  serious  now  Wood, 
aren't  you?" 

"I  certainly  am,  and  so  was  the  man  who  climbed 
out  of  that  north  stable  window,  don't  you  think?— 
only  in  another  way,"  looking  into  the  doctor's  eyes 
while  speaking,  but  finding  it  difficult  not  to  laugh  at 
the  other's  perplexity. 

"What,—  ?" 

"Nothing;  but  a  soiled  red  handkerchief  which  I 
found  in  that  same  window,  caught  on  a  nail  one  morn- 
ing. Don't  get  excited,  Doc,"  laughing  at  Gilbert's 
amazement.  "The  moment  you  said  you  were  'ignor- 
ant and  curious,  both,  about  some  thing,'  I  guessed  the 
rest,  having  the  handkerchief  in  my  possession.  That's 
why  I  said  I'd  like  to  know  what  you  don't,  wouldn't 
you?" 

"No  more  than  you  would."  For  a  space  the  doctor 
was  thoughtful.  He  was  on  the  point  of  speaking, 


DR.  GILBERT  MOUNTS  GUARD       137 

when  Farmer  Bibbins  spoke  up.  "I  see,  that  is  the 
reason  why,  when  we  were  talking  about  Mose's  in- 
jury, you  were  reluctant  to  speak  of  what  you  had 
learned;  Doc,  am  I  right?" 

"Quite  correct,  your  own  reluctance  was  natural  at 
the  same  time,  though  not  because  of  the  same  thing. 
I  have  a  great  store  of  gossip  for  you  Farmer  Bibbins, 
a  little  later;  we  are  not  in  a  position  to  talk  more  now, 
for  here  is  the  Kendall  place.  But  before  you  see  the 
tramp— by  the  way  his  name  is  Ralph,  did  you  know 
that?" 

"That's  odd — are  you  sure?" 

"Only  what  Charley  tells  me !  they  are  quite  friendly 
you  know.  But  he  has  never  given  any  name  save  Jas- 
per. Here  they  all  call  him  'Jap,'  so  when  you  see  him 
don't  reveal  what  you  know  unless  he  first  opens  a  way 
for  you.  If  he  mentions  that  north  window,  ask  him 
who,  if  anyone  was  coming  down  the  Cutterfield  road 
at  the  time  he  lost  the  handkerchief.  That  is  what  I 
desired  to  say  a  moment  ago.  I  will  explain  what  I 
mean  after  you  have  given  him  absolution;  it's  all  a 
part  of  the  tale,"  he  concluded  smiling. 

"Ah,  good  evening,  Flora,  has  Mrs.  Kendall  re- 
turned?" he  inquired  of  a  young  woman  sitting  on  the 
porch.  She  replied  negatively.  He  reached  down 
for  his  case  and  lowering  his  voice  said;  "You  know 
that  girl,  Wood.  She  used  to  work  for  Mrs.  Hog 
Bony.  Before  that  she  was  with  the  Baileys  over  on 
the  Milestone  Hill." 

"Yes,  I  know  her.  I  also  know  your  tramp  did  not 
lose  any  handkerchief  in  the  window  the  day  Mose 
was  injured."  Bibbins  replied  whispering  it  in  the 
doctor's  ear. 

"What,"  Dr.  Gilbert  in  his  astonishment  fairly 
shouted  the  interrogation  at  which  the  quiet  farmer 
laughed,  the  mare  started  and  the  servant  quickly  jump- 


i38  FARMER  BIBBINS 

ed  up  and  ran  into  the  house.     "The  tramp  didn't  lose 
it?    How  do  you  know ?"    He  asked  more  moderately. 

They  were  standing  near  the  front  gate  now,  and  the 
doctor  halted  for  information. 

"I  looked  everywhere  about  the  buildings  not  only 
on  the  night  we  found  Mose  but  early  the  next  morn- 
ing, before  any  of  the  men  were  up.  I  found  noth- 
ing. But  when  I  went  out  after  breakfast  for  another 
look  around,  about  the  first  thing  I  saw  was  the  hand- 
kerchief. That  it  had  been  carefully  attached  to  the 
nail  while  we  were  at  breakfast  was  clear  enough  even 
to  a  thick  skulled  farmer  like  me,  for  not  two  hours 
before  I  closed  that  very  window  myself  and  there 
was  nothing  there  then;  besides  it  was  open  when  I 
returned  and  found  the  'rag/  ' 

"That  doesn't  prove— but  wait.  First  thing  we 
know  Kendall  will  return  and  then—" 

Dr.  Gilbert  led  the  way  to  a  room  in  a  long  wing  of 
the  house,  quite  removed  from  the  main  part,  where 
the  tramp  had  been  carried  and  put  to  bed  when  they 
first  found  him  near  the  kitchen  door.  He  entered 
alone,  Farmer  Bibbins  remaining  near  the  entrance  to 
the  long  corridor-like  passage  connecting  it  with  the 
house. 

"Well  old  man,  glad  to  see  you  looking  cheerful," 
brightening  up  himself  on  entering  the  room,  for  the 
recent  revelations  were  distressingly  complicating  his 
theory.  However  anxious  he  might  be,  he  never  per- 
mitted a  patient  to  see  his  face  expressing  aught  but 
a  pleasant  hopeful  frame  of  mind.  "Jap"  was  any- 
thing but  cheerful,  if  his  countenance  indexed  his  feel- 
ings. A  slight  change— like  an  almost  imperceptible 
ray — came  and  went  as  he  turned  to  the  man  whose 
big  soft  hand  was  soothingly  caressing  his  forehead. 

"I  don't  feel  very  cheerful,  Doctor,"  he  replied  after 
a  little  pause,  in  a  well  modulated  voice.  His  words 


DR.  GILBERT  MOUNTS  GUARD       139 

were  tremulous  with  pain,  though  clearly  enunciated. 
"I  feel  at  times  as  a  man  must  whose  parachute  fails  to 
open  when  released!  I've  been  dropping,  dropping, 
dropping,  expecting  every  moment  to  strike  the  floo— 
—the,  the  rock,"  glancing  up  to  see  if  the  doctor  had 
noticed.  "I  suppose  though,  that  is  the  fever  or  the 
morphia,  isn't  it?" 

"I  suppose  so,  Jap.    Have  you  rested,  slept  at  all?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so,  still  I  am  not  certain,  I've  been 
dreaming  but  perhaps  that  is  the  effect  of  the  drug  too, 
I  am  not  sure." 

"All  right  my  boy,  don't  worry.  I  will  stop  your  pain 
after  a  little.  Now  let  me  fix  you  something  to  brace 
you  up  for  the  time  being,  for  you  have  a  caller  out- 
side; the  man  you  wanted  to  see  and  the  best  man  you 
could  see  in  all  this  state  if  you  are  troubled,  Jap. 
Here  swallow  this,  and  when  you  are  a  little  stronger  I 
will  call  him  in.  In  the  meantime  I  am  going  to  make 
you  as  comfortable  as  possible,  as  soon  as  I  get  a  light. 
A  single  ordinary  fracture  is  bad  enough,  and  a  com- 
pound fracture  is  worse;  but  when  a  man  has  both,  as 
you  have  Jap,  I  am  frank  in  saying  I  can't  understand 
how  anyone  can  endure  it  with  any  degree  of  either 
patience  or  consciousness." 

At  the  mention  of  Farmer  Bibbins  Jap  looked  his 
gratitude,  which  Dr.  Gilbert  understood  but  neither 
spoke  until  the  doctor  was  through  with  his  work. 

"I'm  going  out  now  Jap,  and  send  the  other  man 
in;  talk  freely  to  Mr.  Bibbins  and  I'll  see  that  no  one 
disturbs  you.  I  will  lock  the  door  at  the  end  of  that 
tunnel,  and  wait  out  here  on  the  lawn  to  see  that  no 
one  listens  at  the  window.  Remember,  don't  excite 
yourself  and  be  perfectly  frank  with  your  'confessor.' 
I  have  already  authorized  his  giving  you  absolution," 
laughing  at  the  sick  man's  expression.  "Of  course  I 
shall  see  you  again  before  I  leave.  When  you  are 


i4o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

through  with  Mr.  Bibbins  have  him  tap  on  the  win- 
dow; I  shall  be  near  somewhere." 

"Thank  you  Dr.  Gilbert.  Maybe  Farmer  Bibbins 
is  the  best  man  in  the  state  among  the  farmers  and 
the  rest,  but  you  are  the  best  among  your  profession. 
All  right  then,  you  are  not,"  replying  to  the  other's 
deprecatory  gesture  and  "Tut,  tut,  you're  dreaming 
again"  and  attempting  to  smile.  He  was  little  more 
than  a  boy  in  years,  not  above  twenty-one  or  two, 
though  his  face  was  mature  and  manly  albeit  drawn 
and  haggard  with  suffering. 

Dr.  Gilbert  was  frankly  puzzled  when  he  motioned 
to  Mr.  Bibbins  to  go  in.  Locking  the  door  he  went 
outside  where  in  the  semi-darkness  he  walked  about 
the  well  kept  lawn  smoking  a  cigar. 

"That  boy  is  well  educated  all  right,  and  a  fine  chap 
too,"  he  said  to  himself,  "and  if  he  is  a  professional 
hobo  it's  not  long  since  he  was  an  amateur.  I  wonder 
what  he  was  going  to  say  about  'striking  a  floor'  in 
his  dreams  of  falling?  Kendall  told  me  they  found 
him  near  the  kitchen  door  there,"  facing  about  and 
scanning  the  surroundings.  "It's  too  dark  to  investi- 
gate, but  I'll  bet  the  Elder's  last  homily  on  the  Sin  of 
Gamboling,"  rolling  the  word  in  imitation  of  the  cleric; 
"that  he  fell  from  some  high  scaffolding  or  beam  in  the 
barn,  to  accomplish  that  double  fracture.  Ah,  there 
you  are,  I  thought  so,"  as  the  figure  of  a  woman  came 
from  the  front  of  the  house  and  approached  the  win- 
dow he  was  guarding.  Evidently  she  had  neither  seen 
nor  heard  the  sentinel,  probably  believing  him  at  the 
barn.  It  was  already  quite  dark,  and  the  doctor  con- 
cealed in  part  by  an  intervening  bush  drew  near  enough 
to  spring  out  and  clasp  her  arm  with  one  hand,  while 
he  covered  her  mouth  with  the  other. 

"If  you  will  endeavor  to  restrain  yourself  and  not 
frighten  my  patient  by  any  out  cry,  I  will  release  you 


DR.  GILBERT  MOUNTS  GUARD       141 

Flora,"  he  spoke  quietly  so  that  those  inside  would  not 
hear.  "The  Elder  called  on  me  last  night,  so  you  need 
offer  no  explanation.  I  quite  understand,  in  fact  I  was 
expecting  you.  No,  no,  he  made  no  unseemly  disclos- 
ure of  that  unusual  daypravity  of  which  he  is  an  ex- 
perienced exponent,  so  you  may  relax  this  tension;  you 
will  feel  the  effect  of  it  tomorrow  if  you  don't,"  ad- 
visedly. "One  word  more  and  then  I  would  suggest 
that  you  go  in  and  prepare  supper  for  Mr.  Kendall 
and  his  wife,  who  are  liable  to  return  almost  any  time 
now  and  will  doubtless  need  refreshment  after  a  trying 
day  of  shopping  in  Madran.  One  moment  please," 
for  she  was  preparing  to  run  away,  "if  anything  hap- 
pens to  my  patient,  or  if  anything  is  said  to  the  Elder 
about  Mr.  Bibbins  having  visited  him  — Flora  do  you 
hear? — your  friend  of  the  sacred  ministry  will  have 
preached  his  last  sermon  some  time  before  the  hour 
the  news  of  it  comes  to  me.  Do  you  understand?" 

She  sobbed     an  hysterical  assent. 

"Very  good,  now  run  in.  I  wish  to  smoke  but  I 
never  do  it  in  the  presence  of  your  sex  without  per- 
mission, besides  I  am  not  used  to  meeting  with  young 
ladies  like  this,  and  I  am  really  quite  embarrassed." 

He  laughed  a  minute  as  the  frightened  girl  who  had 
quite  lost  her  wits  through  the  encounter  disappeared 
around  the  house,  and  then  soberly:  "Good  God!  To 
think  of  that  clerical  black  leg  setting  this  poor  girl, 
whom  he  or  Matt  or  both  together  have  ruined,  to 
spy  on  my  patient.  How  can  Kendall  and  his  wife 
remain  blind  to  the  facts  so  plainly  featured  in  that 
braying  ass  of  a  false  prophet?  Blind,  blind  as  a 
rock,  are  these  devotees  of  a  sectarian  religion  who 
grope  fearfully  and  tremblingly  through  the  bigotry 
and  darkness  of  their  own  begetting  in  search  of  the 
Light  which  cannot  be  hid." 

"What  fools  we  all  are,"  he  was  standing  now  in 


142  FARMER  BIBBINS 

front  of  his  horse  and  patting  the  sleek  neck  of  the 
mare  who  in  acknowledgment  of  the  caress  was  rub- 
bing her  velvet  nose  against  his  breast.  UI  doubt  not 
at  all  if  you,  in  your  cleanly  animal  state,  will  not  stand 
higher  in  the  world  to  come  than  we  who  are  'poor 
worms  wriggling  our  way  through  the  mire  of  dayprav- 
ity'  and  after  all  responsible  for  the  things  resulting  in 
scenes  like  the  one  you  must  have  observed  by  the 
house  there  a  moment  ago  Bonny.  You  needn't  shake 
your  head,  you  know  I  speak  the  truth  when  I  say  I 
believe  that  not  only  in  the  world  to  come  will  you 
have  the  higher  plane  over  some  of  us,  but  in  the  world 
present  you  have  the  highest  standard  of  what  is  right 
and  true  and  faithful;  for  you  are  true  and  right  faith- 
ful with  all  your  splendid  service  to  me  and  others, 
your  lords  and  masters  in  nothing  but  abuse  and  love 
of  gain!  But  there  is  the  signal  to  come  in,"  patting 
her  again  and  giving  her  a  lump  of  sugar.  "Bonny,  I 
won't  be  long,"  he  called  back  and  then  entered  the 
house.  He  unlocked  the  door,  the  key  of  which  he 
had  kept  in  his  pocket,  and  approached  the  sick-room. 
His  hand  was  on  the  latch  when  he  heard  the  question, 
"You  won't  tell,  Uncle?"  and  before  he  could  open 
the  door,  the  reply,  "Not  if  you  insist  Ward,  but  1 
wish  you  would  permit  me  to  speak  to  your  Aunt,  and 
Doc'  Gilbert,  they  could  help  you  more  than  I  can." 

He  withdrew  his  hand,  and  rapped  on  the  panel. 

"Come  in,"  said  Farmer  Bibbins,  "you  heard  my 
signal?" 

"Yes  and,"  stepping  over  to  the  bed  and  laying  his 
hand  on  the  youth's  head,  "I  am  afraid  what  was  not 
meant  for  me,  the  last  of  your  conversation.  But  don't 
you  worry  my  boy.  I  heard  nothing  but  your  last 
words,  and  your— Uncle's  reply,  and  they  are  already 
forgotten  if  you  wish  it." 

"Now  to  change  the  subject— can  I  do  anything  for 


DR.  GILBERT  MOUNTS  GUARD       143 

you  to  make  you  more  comfortable  ?  I  don't  like  giv- 
ing you  morphine  unless  absolutely  necessary.  But  if 
your  pain  is  too  great  I  will  leave  with  you  a  couple  of 
tablets  to  take  during  the  night." 

He  saw  a  question  trembling  on  the  other's  lips. 

"What  is  it,  Jap?" 

"My  name  isn't  Jap,  nor  Jasper;  it's  Ward— Ward 
Ralph.  His,"  looking  at  the  man  standing  on  the 
other  side  of  the  bed,  "his  wife  and  my  mother  were 
sisters  and  I  wonder  if  I  could  be  taken  to  his  place 
tomorrow?  I  can't  stand  it  here  now  that  I  am  laid 
up.  The  Kendalls  are  nice  people  and  kind,  but  the 
others  annoy  me.  Do  you  think  I  could,  Doctor?" 

Dr.  Gilbert  glanced  across  at  Farmer  Bibbins.  "It's 
up  to  you  Wood,  what  ever  you  say  goes."  He  was 
greatly  agitated,  but  managed  to  say  it. 

"All  right,  then  he  goes,  only — " 

"Only  what?" 

"How  are  we  to  do  it?" 

"Leave  that  to  me,  and  me  here.  If  he  goes,  he 
goes  at  once.  Take  my  rig  and  drive  home.  Have 
your  men,  who  are  waiting  in  the  barn  for  those  cigars 
I  promised  to  bring  them  tonight,  come  over  with  that 
cot— the  one  Mose  was  carried  to  the  house  on— 
now  here  Jap— Ward,  what's  the  matter?"  looking 
down. 

The  youth  had  stirred;  his  face  was  haggard.  "I 
was  thinking  of  that  old  peddler,  he,  Uncle  Wood 
knows." 

"That's  all  right  Ward;  don't  you  think  of,  nor 
worry  about  that  again,"  said  Farmer  Bibbins.  "We 
will  get  you  into  shape  to  talk;  then  you  must  tell  the 
Doc'  and  Frances.  It's  best  now  anyway  that  one  of 
them  knows  who  you  are.  Go  on,  Doc." 

The  doctor  again  smoothed  the  sufferer's  brow  and 
continued;  "Tell  the  men  to  be  here  with  the  cot  and 


i44  FARMER  BIBBINS 

some  blankets  at  half  past  seven.  The  moon  will  be 
up  by  eight  or  a  little  later,  and  among  us  we  can  carry 
him  over.  It's  a  good  thing  that  the  days  are  short 
and  the  darkness  comes  early.  No  one  will  see  the 
transfer  for  we  will  go  through  the  lane  and  over  the 
hill  through  the  woods.  If  the  Kendalls  are  not  back 
then  I'll  make  it  right  with  them  somehow.  A  well 
told  lie  properly  directed  is  wonderfully  effective  at 
times,  Elder  Coffee  will  agree  to  that." 

Even  the  pain-racked  man  smiled,  though  tearfully. 
The  keen  sympathy  of  these  two  men,  lightened  by  the 
doctor's  ready  wit,  was  to  him  a  revelation.  He  was 
going  tonight — he  recognized  that  fact  clearly.  That 
the  doctor  was  proceeding  with  candid  though  unex- 
pressed confidence  in  trusting  to  the  farmer's  decision 
to  move  him  at  all  was  quite  beyond  his  comprehension. 
The  doctor  knew  only  of  the  relationship  between  him- 
self and  his  uncle  and  was  entirely  ignorant  of  the 
other  facts  disclosed.  It  was  another  revelation  to 
find  such  perfect  trust  and  faith  among  men  as  he  was 
witnessing.  Then  too,  no  one  had  suggested  such  a 
possibility  as  his  Aunt,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  disagreeing.  He 
wondered  much  about  several  things  in  those  few  min- 
utes, not  the  least  of  which  was  their  mutual  decision 
to  act  promptly  without  consulting  her  in  the  matter  at 
all.  She,  he  thought,  the  one  most  to  be  considered, 
was  apparently  not  in  their  thoughts  at  all.  He  would 
have  spoken  but  his  emotion  prevented. 

"Here  are  some  lozenges,  Ward,  I  make  them  my- 
self, the  reason  why  I  never  eat  them,"  said  the  doc- 
tor with  a  laugh,  "this  change  in  the  programme  ne- 
cessitates another  course  of  treatment  for  the  time. 
Tust  let  them  dissolve  in  your  mouth,  slowly.  They 
will  both  strengthen  and  quiet  you." 

"Now,  Farmer,  move!  I'd  like  to  have  the  boy  over 
there  by  nine." 


DR.  GILBERT  MOUNTS  GUARD       145 

"I  was  wondering  about  Frances." 

"So  have  I  been  wondering  about  her,"  the  youth 
spoke  up.  "She,  like  you,  will  have  nothing  but  my 
own  story  to  satisfy  her  and  she  may  not  believe  it  as 
you  do;  also  she  may  not  want  me  at  all,  even  if  she 
should.  You  two  have  decided  without  consulting  her 
you  know." 

"Oh,  it  isn't  that.  You  wouldn't  worry  if  you  knew 
Frances,  Ward.  I  mean  the  shock  of  it — you  see  this 
will  be  another— she's  already  had  one.  But  then  I 
shouldn't  have  said  that  knowing  how  you  feel.  Don't 
think  of  it.  She'll  be  the  maddest  woman  in  all  Mad- 
ran  township  if  we  leave  you  here  one  hour  longer  than 
is  necessary." 

"Yes,  and  I'll  be  the  maddest  man  in  several  towns 
if  you  don't  get  off.  Clear  out!"  put  in  Dr.  Gilbert. 
"Don't  let  Bonny  run  away  with  you.  She's  not  used 
to  green  horns,"  he  threw  after  the  laughing  farmer 
as  he  went  out.  "Here  Farmer  Bibbins,  wait  a  second. 
You  will  find  a  box  of  cigars  in  the  buggy,  help  your- 
self and  the  boys  too.  They  can  smoke  on  the  way 
over,  if  you  don't  keep  them  all  for  yourself.  Now, 
off  with  you." 

He  closed  the  door  and  returned  to  the  bed. 

"Have  you  swallowed  the  last  of  those  lozenges," 
he  asked.  "Very  good.  Now  Ward,  listen,  but  don't 
speak,  you  will  be  asleep  shortly.  I  know  you  think  I 
am  taking  you  on  trust  because  your  uncle  has;  how- 
ever I  am  not.  But  don't  worry,  and  above  all  don't 
think  I  am  not  your  friend." 

The  boy  had  turned  an  anxious  and  frightened  face 
toward  the  doctor. 

"I  am  not  only  your  friend  now,  but  I  have  been  for 
some  hours,  and  hereafter  will  be  as  long  as  you  de- 
sire my  friendship.  If  it  ever  becomes  necessary  I 
will  explain  why  I  have  been  your  friend  since  yester- 


i46  FARMER  BIBBINS 

day.  I  know  you  are  who  you  claim  to  be,  you  look 
like— your— mother.  Yes  I  knew  her  long  ago,"  an- 
swering the  interrogation  of  the  face  before  him.  He 
looked  away  into  the  years  behind  him  for  a  moment, 
and  then  while  the  young  man  watched  him,  kindly 
proceeded;— "Yes,  yes,  you  look  very  much  like  your 
mother,  though  candidly  I  did  not  notice  it  until  I  came 
in  after  having  heard  those  words  at  the  door.  Your 
face  is  drawn  from  suffering  and  hasn't  the  usual  ex- 
pressive likeness  to  your  mother's  family;  though  it  is 
there  clearly  enough." 

Another  pause,  and  he  went  on,  "Not  for  one  second 
think  that  your  Aunt  Frances  will  not  be  happy  to  have 
you  in  her  care.  She's  the  best  woman  on  earth,  and 
she  has  the  best  husband  in  Madran.  I  love  them 
both,  and  so  will  you.  And  if  you  are  worthy  you  will 
be  loved  by  them  to  the  fullness  of  your  worth." 

"But  while  that  is  not  what  I  especially  wished  to 
say,  I  did  want  you  to  know  that  too.  Now  do  not 
allow  yourself  to  be  frightened  at  anything  and  keep 
from  worrying.  You  have  been  worrying  for  weeks, 
so  have  all  your  friends,  but  don't  any  more.  I  know 
now  that  you  have  no  cause  to  worry,  Ward,  and  I've 
known  it  since  last  night,  for  I  know  the  truth.  The 
truth,  Ward,  and  some  day,  ere  long,  others  will.  I 
am  speaking  of  what  happened  two  months  ago,  Ward, 
I  don't  know  just  what  you  told  Farmer  Bibbins  — 
Now,  what  did  I  just  say?" 

The  boy's  face  was  blanched  and  drawn  not  alto- 
gether from  physical  suffering,  and  showed  the  nerv- 
ous strain  in  spite  of  the  drowsiness  he  felt. 

"I  know  the  truth  Ward,  and  I  am  telling  you  that 
I  do,  so  you  will  not  mentally  suffer  while  convalescing 
at  your  uncle's,  understand?  Not  part  of  the  truth, 
Ward,  the  whole  of  it,  only  I  have  not  been  able,  am 


DR.  GILBERT  MOUNTS  GUARD       147 

not  yet  able  in  fact,  to  clothe  it  properly.  But  I  know 
it,  even  if  it  is  naked,  and  I  say  to  you,  don't  worry, 
because  I  do  know  it,  which  lets  you  out  of  it,  Ward. 
Now  go  to  sleep." 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  HOSPITAL  RECEIVES  ANOTHER  PATIENT 


I 


O  carry  a  man  of  one  hundred  and  eighty 
pounds  on  a  cot  weighing  at  least  twenty 
pounds  more,  a  mile  and  three-quarters 
through  fields  and  woods  after  dark  with 
only  a  pale  moon  and  paler  lantern  (for  the  latter 
smoked,  became  useless,  and  in  course  of  time  was  put 
out)  was  a  serious  task  though  not  an  impossible  one, 
for  half  a  dozen  strong,  healthy  men.  It  took  but  a 
moment  to  tear  off  a  few  fence  rails  when  necessary 
or  to  replace  them  after  the  cot  was  lifted  over;  and  at 
a  quarter  of  nine  the  young  man  who  boasted  a  leg 
broken  in  two  places,  was  occupying  the  best  parlor 
bedroom  of  Mrs.  Bibbins,  all  unconscious  of  his  re- 
moval from  the  Kendall  bed,  as  the  Kendalls  in  their 
turn  were  still  quite  unconscious  of  his  departure. 

"It's  the  Elder's  Love-Feast,"  Dr.  Gilbert  mused 
quietly  to  himself  as  the  cause  of  their  remaining  away 
through  the  evening  dawned  upon  him.  "I  wonder  if 
he  is  now  sowing  that  'Sheaf  of  Wheat'  he  so  oppor- 
tunely found  on  the  Hill,"  he  continued  to  himself 
smiling,  only  to  reprove  himself  a  moment  later  for  his 
levity.  He  was  as  naturally  a  Christian  and  sympa- 
thetic to  Christianity  and  its  Truth,  as  he  was  humor- 
ous. But  as  the  former  was  buried  deep  within  his 
soul,  and  the  other  was  always  bubbling  near  his  lips, 
it  was  the  latter  which  found  the  readier  expression. 

As  they  neared  the  Bibbins  home,  he  saw  Frances 
standing  on  the  porch  in  the  light  from  the  open  door, 
and  called;  "Are  you  going  to  keep  me  here  half  the 

148 


HOSPITAL  RECEIVES  PATIENT       149 

night  overtaxing  my  poor  head  to  find  some  way  of 
spilling  a  pail  of  water  on  that  feather  bed  that  a  life 
may  be  saved  by  circumventing  your  goodness?"  and 
then  laughed  heartily  as  she  came  down  the  steps  to 
meet  him. 

"I  wish  I  had  a  pail  of  water  here,  it  wouldn't  be  a 
feather  bed  but  something  quite  as  soft  which  would 
get  most  of  it,"  she  retorted,  gently  adding: — "We 
are  all  ready  for  the  poor  fellow,  Doctor.  Wood  told 
me  all  he  had  time  to.  You  don't  know  how  grateful 
I  am  to  you  for  permitting  us  to  have  him  here,"  low- 
ering her  voice,  "just  think  of  it,  my  own  nephew!  I 
hope  I  can  love  him  and  keep  him  always." 

Then  as  the  others  came  up  she  led  the  way  to  the 
room  where  Mose  had  lain  so  long. 

"We  will  soon  have  to  put  a  sign  out,  'Refuge  for 
the  broken'  and  we'll  make  you  house  surgeon,  Doc- 
tor," she  said  trying  desperately  to  keep  the  tears  back. 

"I  will  accept  if  you  are  to  be  head  nurse,"  he  re- 
plied and  then  directed  the  transfer  of  the  sleeping 
man  from  cot  to  bed.  The  doctor  and  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  soon  completed  what  was  necessary  for  the  suffer- 
er's comfort  and  returned  to  the  kitchen  where  Frances 
had  hot  coffee,  and  a  big  fire  roaring  on  the  hearth 
which  was  capacious  enough  to  take  rails  when  cut  into 
three  pieces. 

"Ah,  but  that's  fine,"  indicating  the  fire  whose  light 
was  illuminating  the  entire  room  without  aid  of  lamps. 
"And  so  was  that,"  draining  his  cup  and  handing  it  to 
Mrs.  Bibbins  to  refill.  "Not  much  like  what  I  had 
last  night,"  he  said  laughing  uproariously  till  they  all 
joined  in  without  knowing  why.  The  doctor  was  evi- 
dently in  great  humor. 

"What  did  you  have  so  different  from  this?"  Fran- 
ces inquired. 

"What  did  I  have?     Oh,  it  was  a  domestic  brand 


i5o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

all  right,  rather  too  domestic,  at  times,  I  fear;  some- 
what tasteless  and  slightly  flat,  but  strong  enough  too 
in  a  way;  a  little  too  strong  some  ways,  though  de- 
cidedly weak  after  all  in  most  ways."  And  again 
everyone  roared  until  they  were  holding  their  sides. 

"Was  it  the-" 

"Yes,  it  was  the  brand  of  the  White  Bow-wof,  spell- 
ed  without  the  K." 

It  was  nearing  midnight  when  the  party,  consisting 
of  the  Bibbins's,  Dr.  Gilbert  and  the  helpers  of  the 
Bibbins  family,  broke  up.  The  Doctor  had  recounted 
all  he  felt  safe  in  repeating  of  the  Elder's  call  the 
evening  before  and  the  experiment  which  cut  it  short, 
before  the  employees,  and  was  rising  to  go  : 

"If  some  one  will  bring  my  horse,  I  will  take  a 
look  at  my  patient  and  depart." 

Had  he  requested  an  expression  of  regard  for  him 
or  his  evening's  entertainment  of  them— for  he  had 
done  nearly  all  the  talking— by  a  rising  vote,  it  could 
have  been  no  more  unaminous  for  every  man,  including 
the  "Boss"  rose  to  perform  the  service. 

"Here!  Here!  Hold  on,  if  there  is  to  be  any 
quarreling  over  the  privilege  of  leading  one  poor  mare 
from  the  stable  I'll  bring  her  myself,"  he  said  dryly 
glancing  over  them  with  twinkling  eyes.  Singling  out 
the  foreman,  he  continued,  "You  bring  her,  Mr.  Fore- 
man, and  when  I'm  through  here  I'll  take  you  home." 

"Right  Doc;  'twont  be  a  bad  idea  t'  hev  someone 
do  't,  seein'  the  ole  woman'll  (his  wife  was  twenty- 
five)  be  expectin'  me  since  'bout  seven  'clock." 

The  foreman  went  for  the  rig,  the  Doctor  went  to 
his  patient  and  the  others  went  to  bed,  save  Farmer 
Bibbins  who  went  to  sleep  in  his  chair  by  the  fire. 

"Well  Frances,  this  must  seem  quite  natural  to  be 
in  here  watching  by  those  who  are  broken  in  bone  as 
well  as  spirit.  Poor  boy,  he's  only  a  boy,  after  all," 


HOSPITAL  RECEIVES  PATIENT       151 

drawing  near  and  tenderly  laying  his  hand  upon  the 
patient's  head,  and  watching  his  respiration.  "Did 
you  know  you  had  a  nephew?"  the  doctor  asked,  "I 
mean  before  tonight." 

"I  knew  I  used  to  have  one,  by  the  same  name  too, 
but  supposed  he  was  out  west  somewhere,  if  not  dead. 
I  hadn't  heard  of  any  of  them  for  years.  His  mother 
was  my  older  sister.  She  married  one  of  the  teachers 
of  the  Institute  when  very  young,  and  I've  never  seen 
her  since.  They  went  west  and  I  only  heard  from 
her  a  few  times  before  she  died." 

She  was  speaking  hesitatingly.  He  knew  it  was 
painful  for  her  to  speak  at  all  on  this  subject  so  he 
interrupted:  "Well,  Ward  is  a  fine  fellow,  physically 
all  right,  and  if  the  condition  of  his  body  indicates  any- 
thing, he's  been  a  clean,  temperate  fellow  in  his  habits 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  known  only  as  'Jap  the 
Tramp.'  I  don't  think  he  was  ever  a  real  tramp.  Any- 
way I  want  to  apologize  for  what  I  said  of  him  yes- 
terday, and  hope  you  have  not  recalled  it,  unfavorably, 
to  me,  since  learning  of  his  relation  to  you." 

"Indeed  I  haven't.  Wood  and  I  spoke  of  it  after 
you  left.  We  each  thought  you  were  simply  trying 
to  cheer  us  in  our  trouble  over  the  contracts.  The 
idea  of  your  wanting  a  man's  neck  broken  in  place  of  a 
leg  solely  because  you  supposed  him  to  be  a  tramp,  and 
you  employing  at  least  three  when  you  don't  need  but 
one,  and  that  one  only  a  quarter  of  the  time." 

"You  exaggerate,  Frances,  I  have  only  two.  The 
third  one  you  mention,  my  housekeeper  Mrs.  Bates,  is 
only  the  mother  of  one  of  the  others,  and  none  of  them 
tramp  for  a  living." 

"They  used  to,  anyway." 

"Oh,  well,  I  used  to  be  a  boy,  and  you  used  to  be  a 
girl,  but  you  are  not  now,  and  I  am  no  longer  a  boy." 

"What  are  you,  if  not  a  boy?    A  little  larger,  over- 


i52  FARMER  BIBBINS 

grown,  perhaps,"  smiling  at  his  big  straight  form  and 
then  at  his  merry  eyes.  "If  not  a  boy,  how  do  you 
class  yourself?" 

"I  am  a  poor  country  physician." 

"Nothing  else?" 

"Something  less,  you  may  leave  out  the  country." 

"Nothing  less?" 

"Not  if  I  am  to  be  classified." 

"Let's  begin  again.  I  like  this,  it's  stimulating.  Now 
suppose  you  lived  in  the  city,  what  would  you  be?" 

"A  poor  city  physician." 

"Anything  else?" 

"No,  less;  leave  out  the  city." 

"But  you  can't;  you  have  already  left  out  the  coun- 
try, if  you  leave  out  the  city  where  are  you?" 

"In  the  room  of  the  featherless  bed,  of  the  best 
parlor  in  the  homeliest  house  of  the  best  woman  in  the 
world." 

"You  have  no  city,  no  country,  so  you  can  have  none 
of  these  others,  then  what  would  you  be?" 

"No  match  for  a  witty  woman,  I  assure  you.  Now," 
looking  at  his  watch,  "it's  twelve  o'clock  and  time  for 
recess.  School's  out!" 

"There,  what  did  I  tell  you.  You're  just  a  boy  after 
all.  Only  boys  are  delighted  when  school's  out,  and 
only  a  boy  could  say  it  as  you  did.  Do  you  give  in?" 

"I  did  sometime  ago,  before  you  awakened  your 
other  pupil,"  smiling  and  pointing  at  the  young  man 
on  the  bed,  who  was  staring  with  wide  eyes  at  the  two. 

"You  are  Dr.  Gilbert,  aren't  you?"  he  asked  won- 
deringly.  "But  where  am  I?  If  you  will  kindly  in- 
form me  whether  I  am  anywhere  this  side  of  heaven, 
and  if  I  am  not  myself  who  I  am,  you  will  greatly 
oblige  me,  Doctor." 

"You  are  here  on  earth  as  your  leg  doubtless  informs 
you  and  you  are  the  same  person  I  have  had  the  honor 


HOSPITAL  RECEIVES  PATIENT       153 

of  knowing  for  at  least  forty  hours,  perhaps  only  thirty- 
nine  and  a  few  minutes.  Anything  more?"  cheerfully. 

"No,  my  leg  does  speak  of  the  earth  occasionally," 
attempting  a  smile  that  cut  Frances  to  the  soul.  "But 
I  thought  I  heard  an  angel's  voice,  and  if  looks  do  not 
deceive  always,  I  think  I  was  right,"  looking  at  the 
woman  who  had  drawn  near.  "If  it  is  customary  in 
this  world,  and  you  and  my  leg  should  after  all  be  mis- 
taken, will  you  present  me,  Doctor?  You  will  pardon 
me  dear  lady,  if  I  do  not  rise.  I  have  been  injured. 
The  doctor  will  explain  to  you  if  you  care  to  know 
about  it.  Doctor  will  you—" 

"Oh,  my  God,  Ward  you  poor  boy;  you  don't  know 
me  but  I  am  your  Aunt  Frances.  Your  mother  was 
my  sister;  my  poor  nephew  I  am  so  sorry  for  you." 
And  before  the  doctor  could  speak  or  the  astonished 
youth  could  raise  a  hand  she  had  dropped  to  her  knees 
by  his  pillow  and  was  kissing  him  and  holding  him 
cheek  to  cheek. 

"I  think  I  am  wasting  time,"  Dr.  Gilbert  softly  mur- 
mured and  then  as  softly  withdrew. 

Farmer  Bibbins  was  still  asleep  when  he  passed 
through  the  kitchen  to  the  outer  door.  He  paused  a 
second,  then  taking  a  piece  of  paper  from  his  pocket, 
wrote;— 

"If  you  happen  to  wake  up  in  time,  tell  your  wife 
that  I  meant  school  was  out  for  the  day,  not  merely  for 
a  recess.  If  you  don't  I  will  tell  her  myself  in  the  morn- 
ing. Good  night. 

Gilbert. 

P.  S.  Go  on  with  the  factory,  your  left  handed  nephew 
will  make  a  splendid  superintendent.  I  made  a  slight 
error  in  time.  Good  morning!  G." 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  ELDER  MAKES  A  PASTORAL  CALL 


I 


house  occupied  by  Mr.  Hogarth  Low- 
ton  was  erected  by  his  predecessor,  on  the 
west  side  of  the  highway,  facing  the  barn 
built  by  another  earlier  occupant  of  the  farm 
on  the  east  side.  Midway  of  the  road  and  directly  be- 
tween the  house  and  the  barn  stood  Mr.  Lowton  chew- 
ing a  favorite  brand  of  straw.  Nothwithstanding  that, 
at  the  time  of  the  gentleman's  introduction,  he  was 
heard  to  comment  on  the  serious  lack  of  rain,  it  had 
been  a  sufficiently  moist  summer  to  strike  the  straw  of 
his  oats  with  rust,  as  the  selection  between  his  few  re- 
maining teeth  furnished  ample  proof.  It  is  not  to  be 
supposed,  however,  that  Bony  regarded  the  rust  on  the 
straw  as  a  mark  of  favoritism,  either  to  himself  in  se- 
lecting it  or  of  Providence  in  giving  it  growth.  He  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  regarding  himself  a  favorite  of 
Providence  at  any  time.  The  benefit  of  this  particular 
brand  to  him  lay  in  the  fact  that  all  he  had  to  do  was  to 
stoop  and  pick  it  up. 

Optimists  tell  us  that  "It's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no 
one  good,"  but  the  "Hog,"  a  pessimist  by  nature, 
would  never  have  admitted  it.  Possibly  because  he 
never  gave  it  thought.  After  all  it  was  the  wind— 
(aided  somewhat  by  his  cattle,  no  doubt,  which  strew- 
ed everywhere  about  his  yards  and  over  a  wide  area 
surrounding  them,  a  mammoth  pile  of  straw,  annually 
created  by  the  unaided  efforts  of  the  thresher's  stacker 
at  the  end  of  his  barn) — which  made  it  possible  at  any 
time  and  anywhere  within  a  thousand  feet  of  his  build- 

154 


ELDER  MAKES  A  PASTORAL  CALL    155 

ings  to  reach  down  and  find  at  his  feet  a  ready  supply 
of  his  constant  diet. 

The  various  attitudes  of  Mr.  Lowton's  body  in  its 
frequent  and  sudden  changes  while  standing  in  the 
road  were  not  in  the  least  indicative  of  his  mind,  which 
seldom  changed  and  never  suddenly.  While  not  ac- 
tively in  keeping  with  the  other  fact,  his  very  gestures 
gave  it  emphasis,  for  like  his  mind  these  were  unvary- 
ing in  their  changelessness.  It  was  Mr.  Lowton's  in- 
ability to  make  a  decision,  owing  to  his  not  unpeculiar 
tardiness  of  mind,  that  kept  him,  if  not  actually  pinned 
to  the  ground,  at  least  chained  by  a  limited  mentality 
to  a  radius  extending  no  farther  than  the  middle  and 
dusty  third  of  the  road.  To  the  same  dilatory  faculty 
may  be  credited  the  numerous  gestures,  the  frequent 
changes  of  attitude,  the  starts  and  stops,  characteristic 
of  a  man  whose  passions  have  outstripped  his  reason. 
And  these  in  the  loneliness  of  their  advanced  position 
must  have  it  out  in  fighting  the  air. 

Whether  he  was  calling  down  the  maledictions  of 
Deity,  or  calling  up  the  blessings  of  demons;  whether 
he  was  imploring  aid  from  some  idolatrous  beast  idly 
chewing  its  cud  in  the  stall,  or  pleading  the  assistance 
of  his  equally  invisible  wife  who  was  washing  milk 
cans  in  the  shade  behind  the  house,  his  two  observers 
could  not  decide.  The  outward  and  visible  signs  of  his 
inward  and  spirited  solicitations  suggested  first  one 
then  another,  as  he  faced  the  direction  from  which  his 
importunities  might  hope  for  succor.  To  them  he  was 
rapidly  approaching  that  frenzied  condition  known  to 
Camp  Meeters  as  "Getting  the  power,"  though  the 
method  of  getting  it  was  unusual.  But  conditions  are 
deceptive.  One  may  not  judge  facts  by  the  conditions 
covering  them,  no  more  than  one  may  judge  a  man  by 
the  clothes  he  wears.  Bony  was  not  getting  the  power, 
he  was  simply  losing  the  little  he  had.  It  was  well, 


156  FARMER  BIBBINS 

not  merely  because  the  mind  is  more  active  when  the 
body  is  exhausted,  but  for  one  who  has  ever  depended 
upon  an  auxiliary  to  quicken  thought,  a  crisis  was  at 
hand.  Two  alternatives  alone  remained;  he  must  eith- 
er order  a  retreat  or  surrender  for  lack  of  ammunition. 
The  first  was  impossible,  there  being  no  order  in  his 
mind,  and  the  second,  owing  to  the  complete  abstrac- 
tion of  himself  to  the  danger,  went  unseen,  for  he  stood 
facing  the  foe  without  another  charge  of  straw  in  reach, 
with  nothing  but  the  empty  shells  in  the  form  of  chaff 
within  the  radius  of  his  shackles. 

Still  neither  of  the  watchers  went  to  his  aid.  One 
of  them,  generally  game  and  cooly  frank  in  the  pres- 
ence of  others,  was  standing  in  plain  view,  had  the 
man  without  a  straw  seen  fit  to  look  in  the  right  direc- 
tion, though  hidden  from  his  fellow  observer  by  one 
of  the  smaller  buildings. 

The  other,  shy  and  secluded  in  manner  and  accom- 
pained  by  a  "Sheaf  of  Wheat,"  was  standing  at  the 
rear  of  the  pig  sty  looking  in  through  a  small  square 
window  and  out  through  a  wide  open  door  whose  grad- 
uated range  of  vision  served  both  his  purpose  and  his 
nature  with  admirable  adaptibility.  Not  only  were  the 
individual  characters  of  the  watchers  portrayed  in  the 
perspective  of  their  chosen  positions,  but  their  positions 
with  equal  and  impartial  exactitude  gave  likeness  to 
their  individual  natures. 

It  was  the  Bird  who  released  the  victim  of  bonds 
in  the  road  by  chirping  a  cheery: 

"Mornin'  Bo— Mr.  Lowton,  hev  ye  lost  suthin' 
too?"  and  laughing  silently  (in  his  sleeve  he  would 
have  said)  he  approached  the  angry  captive  whose 
fetters  dropped  with  his  muttered  "Go  t'  hell,"  per- 
mitting him  to  walk  away. 

"Hello,  thar  Mr.  Lowton,  don'  ye  go  fer  t'  gittin' 
mad  'bout  nothin'.  I  ain't  got  nuthin'  'gainst  ye  pus- 


ELDER  MAKES  A  PASTORAL  CALL    157 

sonal,  nary  thin'.  I'l  a'mit  'f  I'd  cum  t'  ye  yest'dy  ez 
I  ment  t',  ony  th'  Elder  sorter  put  't  out  o'  my  hed  fust 
time  by  losin'  sev'ral  thin's  to  oncet,  and  Lista  curried 
't  out  tother  time — ye  might  hev  had  sum  'scuse  fer 
gittin  mad.  Coz  ye  see  Bo— Mister  Lowton,  I  kinder 
had  't  in  fer  ye  'bout  cussin'  out  'on  Farmer  Bibbins 
so  gosh  dern  low  like.  But  'at's  all  over  'n  gone  now, 
seein'  how  ye  got  Icf,  on'y  ye  don'  know  't  yit.  An' 
I  kinder  tho't  I'd  drop  in  on  ye  an'  sorter  tell  ye  like 
'ats  'tis  jes'  yerself  ye  cum  't  over,  gol  dern  ye,  ez 
ye'll  soon  larn,"  and  went  his  way,  his  wrath  subsid- 
ing at  the  bewildered  expression  on  Bony's  face  and  in 
time  to  prevent  an  anomalous  phase  of  his  otherwise 
peaceful  mission  from  spoiling  its  present  effect.  Bony, 
muttering,  returned  to  the  barn. 

The  figure  in  hiding  behind  the  sty  waited  till  the 
distant  notes  of  the  Bird's  whistle  were  lost  behind  a 
nearby  grove  where  the  road  curved,  and  the  angry 
farmer  had  withdrawn  from  the  scene  of  his  late  strife. 
Then  he  came  out  to  where  the  member  of  his  flock 
had  fought  his  fight  with  the  spirits  of  darkness,  and 
was  all  but  conquered  by  the  foe.  There  was  no  tangi- 
ble evidence  pointing  out  a  cause  of  the  late  struggle, 
only  its  severity  was  clearly  proven  by  the  beaten  dust 
on  the  dry  road,  and  the  wet  wads  of  straw  on  the 
dry  dust. 

The  cursory  glance  of  investigation  which  he  gave 
the  "signs"  required  no  long  halt  since  he  had  witness- 
ed all  that  was  visible  of  the  battle  itself;  and  so  chuck- 
ling quietly,  either  because  of  what  he  had  seen,  or  be- 
cause some  one  was  liable  to  see  him  (and  be  fooled, 
as  he  was  not)  he  walked  quietly  and  reverently  on- 
ward to  the  house  as  a  man  of  sacred  calling  should, 
though  for  once  he  preferred  to  go  to  the  barn.  Had 
the  Elder  approached  the  door  under  an  observing  eye, 
it  would  have  seen  his  raised  fist  striking  at  a  panel 


1 58  FARMER  BIBBINS 

of  the  front-room  door.  At  the  same  time  had  a  listen- 
er been  on  the  inside  no  reverberation  of  sound  would 
have  greeted  his  ear,  for  the  Elder  was  not  striking  the 
door,  he  was  simply  posing  for  the  benefit  of  Bony  or 
any  other  who  might  be  on  the  lookout. 

He  waited  a  moment  and  then  repeated  the  action. 
No  one  coming  to  admit  the  reverend  gentleman, 
which  was  what  he  most  desired,  he  looked  up  and 
down  the  highway,  then  around  the  yard  as  if  in  search 
of  some  one,  and  apparently  smothering  his  disappoint- 
ment at  finding  no  one  he  turned  his  steps  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  barn.  He  was  crossing  the  road  when  a 
shrill  voice  from  behind  him  broke  the  morning  quiet, 
"That  ye,  Elder  Coffee?  Why  didn't  ye  knock  man, 
I  cud  a  heard  ye?" 

For  a  moment  he  hesitated,  then  stopped  and  faced 
about. 

"I  was  undecided,  Sister  Lowton,"  he  answered 
evenly,  for  once  master  of  himself  under  surprise; 
probably  because  it  was  a  woman  who  hailed,  and  he 
knew  his  strength  with  the  sex.  "I  was  fearful  of 
a — a— of  interfering  with  your  housewifely  duties,"  he 
went  on.  "I  seldom  disturb  the  good  sisters  of  my 
flock  with  untimely  calls,  and  while  I  was  anxious  to 
see  Brother  Lowton,  after  twice  essaying  the  announce- 
ment of  my  sacred,  a  — a— my  person,  I  thought  best 
to  seek  elsewhere  for  your  good-man  before  beguiling 
you  from  vour  morning  labor,  Sister  Lowton,"  some- 
what unctuously. 

"La,  la,  Elder,  'taint  no  beguilement  from  labor  nor 
nothin'  else  to  hev  ye  call,  Brother  Coffee.  Yer  allus 
welcome  'f  ve'l  on'v  take  me  ez  ye  fin'  me,"  she  re- 
plied simpering  with  ambiguous  coquetrv,  and  satisfied 
with  his  plausible  excuse  for  not  knocking.  "Hog-o- 
arth,  T  mean  Mister  Lowton,  ez  to  the  barn  T  guess," 
catching  herself  in  time  to  prevent  an  expression  dis- 


ELDER  MAKES  A  PASTORAL  CALL    159 

respectful  to  her  lord  and  master,  but  not  quickly 
enough  to  prevent  the  Elder  from  recognizing  the  fact 
of  Bony's  standing  as  other  than  head  of  the  house. 

"Ye  needn't  be  in  no  sech  great  shakes  in  hurryin' 
away  Elder.  I  ain't  seen  ye  roun'  but  once  since  that 
fool  of  a  hired  girl,  Flora,  left  me  to  do  all  my  own 
work  an'  go  to  Kendalls.  'F  she  don't  see  a  difference 
'tween  that  place  and  ours  fore  many  days,  I'l  rniss  my 
guess  that's  sartain." 

The  Elder  was  finding  considerable  difficulty  in  sup- 
pressing his  agitation  at  the  mention  of  Flora,  and  de- 
cided that  flight  for  the  present  was  the  valorous  part 
of  wisdom  for  him  and  turned  to  go. 

"I  am  exceedingly  sorry  for  you  Sister  Lowton,  the 
tasks  of  the  a— a— ah,  bread  maker  are  never  in 
proportionate  keeping  with  the  so-called  and  much 
vaunted  winner  of  the  a— a — ah,  the  loaf,"  proudly  lift- 
ing his  head  at  the  sentiment.  "You  say  I  shall  find 
your  good-man  at  the  barn?  It  is  of  much  importance 
that  I  have  speech  with  Brother  Lowton  this  morning. 
I  expected  to  have  seen  you  both  at  the  love  feast  last 
evening-tide  and  was  sorely  disappointed  when  I  saw 
my  availing  expectation  going  rewardless." 

Mrs.  Lowton  was  inclined  to  resent  the  Elder's 
hasty  departure.  She  was  entirely  ignorant  of  the 
immediate  and  real  cause  of  his  leaving  her,  but  his 
expressed  regi  :t  at  their  absence  from  the  evening  ses- 
sion placated  her  rising  temper.  She  followed  him  to 
where  a  gate  used  to  be,  bidding  him  return  "fer  a 
cup  o'  tea"  before  proceeding  on  his  "sakerd  way," 
and  returned  to  her  endless  work. 

Bony  was  on  the  point  of  driving  away  when  the 
reverend  gentleman  hailed  him  from  the  road  with  a 
brotherly  greeting,  though  the  brotherly  part  of  it  was 
a  veil  to  internal  fires.  He  saw  an  affront  to  his  sacred 


i6o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

calling  in  this  act  of  an  errant  member  of  his  Flock, 
and  he  was  on  the  point  of  calling  the  attempted  er- 
rantcy  to  account  when  it  occurred  to  him  that  by  so 
doing  he  would  "advertantly"  (as  he  murmured  a  self 
correction)  reveal  the  fact  that  he  knew  and  that  Bony 
knew  that  neither  was  ignorant  of  the  other's  place 
and  presence.  Therefore  instead  of  appearing  as  an 
aggrieved  and  wounded  pastor,  he  came  up  to  the 
"democrat"  smiling  and  affable,  extending  a  clammy 
hand  in  token  of  his  brotherly  feeling  and  good  will 
to  the  scowling  man  on  the  seat  who,  in  pulling  a 
straw  from  beneath  its  cushion  and  placing  it  between 
his  scattered  teeth,  overlooked  both  the  token  and  hand. 

Determined  however  to  keep  the  check  of  his  holy 
ministry  under  the  hook  of  his  shepherd's  staff,  as  it 
were,  he  grasped  the  rim  of  the  front  wheel,  as  if  that 
were  his  first  and  sole  intention. 

"I  was  more  than  sorry,  Brother  Lowton,"  repress- 
ing the  desire  to  exercise  another  of  the  functions  of 
his  calling,  "to  miss  you  from  our  love-feast  last  night. 
Brother  and  Sister  Kendall  were  down  in  the  afternoon, 
and  with  much  persuasion  I  prevailed  upon  them  to 
pass  the  grosser  cares  of  life  to  others  for  the  time,  and 
partake  of  the  holy  banquet  which  my  unhallowed 
hands  prepared  for  the  low  and  meekly,  which  is  al- 
ways one  of  the  greatest  trials  of  my  sacred  ministry, 
I  mean  a,  a,  ah,  greatest  pleasures  which  (.he  holy  vows 
of  my  ordination  forced  upon  me.  Were  you  driving 
somewhere,  Brother  Lowton?"  covertly  lifting  his 
eyes  to  the  lowering  countenance  above  him.  For  a  mo- 
ment it  looked  as  if  the  proverbial  storm  were  at  hand, 
for  a  calm  of  serious  portent  followed  the  question,  dur- 
ing which  the  Elder  released  his  hand  and  stepped 
away  from  the  wheel.  Bonv  realized  that  the  time 
was  not  propitious  to  express  his  opinion  of  the  preach- 


ELDER  MAKES  A  PASTORAL  CALL    161 

er  to  his  face,  for  he  was  aware  of  the  other's  position 
in  the  general  mix-up  of  the  public's  opinions  which 
not  only  included  himself,  but  somehow  included  his 
eldest  son  as  well,  if  his  suspicions  were  correct.  Bony 
was  not  cowardly  in  the  presence  of  men,  he  was  mere- 
ly diplomatic— a  result  of  his  mental  tardiness  in 
changing  ideas— when  his  temper  was  not  aroused. 
Like  all  hypocrites,  however,  who  rely  upon  their  mem- 
bership in  a  church  to  keep  them  free  in  the  public 
mind,  he  was  a  coward  in  his  soul  when  he  faced  his 
creed,  which  spoke  of  a  wrathful  God. 

The  calm  was  dissipated  therefore  by  his  lack  of 
time  to  map  out  a  different  course  from  the  one  he 
had  always  pursued  with  the  Elder,  which  merely  de- 
layed the  impending  storm. 

"Yes,  Brother  Coffee,  I'm  a  drivin'  sum'ers,  an'  I'm 
so  gol  d — d — so  upset  'bout  suthin',  I  ain't  nun  certain 
whar  I'll  b'gin  nor  end  nuther,  so  ye  must  make  'low- 
ance  fer  my — 'f  my  cordjality  iz  a  leetle  mite  slow 
like  in  givin'  ye  the  welkim  ye  desarve,"  eyeing  him 
malevolently.  "I  ain't  meanin'  nuthin'  pussonal,  Elder, 
when  I  tell  ye  I'd  callated  t'  git  'way'  fore  ye  co't  me. 
Fac'  is,  I  ain't  in  no  propper  frame  o'  min'  fer  a  man 
o'  yer  perfeshun  t'  'sociate  with  him  'nless  ye  hev  t'; 
an'  seein'  ye  don'  hev  t',  rnebbe  ye'd  jes'  ez  soon  I'd  be 
gittin'  off." 

"Now  Brother  Lowton,  Brother  Lowton,  'he  that 
humbleth  himself  you  know.  I  walked  over  here  this 
morning  from  Brother  Kendall's  to  hold  converse  with 
you  on  a  most  important  matter.  I  remained  the  night 
with  those  faithful  members  of  my  flock  and  was  en- 
abled by  my  providential  presence  to  give  comfort  to 
them  in  their  great  perplexion." 

"A  most  infamous  procedure  of  that  blatant  man 
of  Belial— I  confer  the  title  upon  that  son  of  Dark- 


i6z  FARMER  BIBBINS 

ness— Dr.  Gilbert— has  bereft  that  household  of  a 
most  undesirable  member,  aided  and  abetted  by  an- 
other child  of  Anak  and  Beelzebub  the  prince  of  Devils, 
Brother  Lowton,  whom  the  friends  of  Satan  call  Farm- 
er Bibbins,  and  a  fit  speciment  of  that  unusual  dayprav- 
ity  common  in  this  Christian  community,  Brother  Low- 
ton,"  he  went  on  eloquently.  "Taken  away  like  a  thief 
in  the  night,  he  was,  from  beneath  the  hallowed  roof 
tree  of  a,  ah,  ah,  faithful  member  of  the  Flock,  on  a 
couch  of  sin,  and  carried  through  fields  and  hills  like 
the  man  who  took  up  his  bed  but  could  not  walk  be- 
cause of  offence  to  an  angry  God  who  struck  him 
down  and  broke  his  legs,"  he  concluded  with  an  elo- 
quence, more  than  equal  to  the  incoherency  of  his 
speech. 

"What  in  H —  tunket,  'dye  mean  Elder?"  Bony 
inquired  more  or  less  blankly,  searching  beneath  the 
cushion  for  the  means  of  mental  stimulus.  "Ye'd  bet- 
ter loose  that  air  check  a  leetle  Elder,  cos  ye  see  yer 
hed's  higher  'nor  I  kin  reach  ye  at  present." 

"What  I  mean,  Brother  Lowton,  is  neither  there  nor 
here."  In  his  excitement  he  raised  an  arm  toward 
the  heavens,  gradually  lowering  it  till  its  perpendicular 
was  reversed,  like  the  phrase  he  used.  "It's  what  you 
mean  by  allowing  these  uncommon  carryings  on  by  the 
godless  to  the  utter  diversion  of  injustice,  to  those  who 
deserve  its  pervertment  from  the  distractions  of  life 
and  brotherly  duty  among  those  who  belong  to  the 
same  household  of  faith  as  yourself,  Brother  Lowton, 
under  your  own  nose  and  lift  no  hand  to  stay  the  flood 
of  wrath  from  a  lovable  God,  whose  nostrums  should 
never  be  offended  by  the  stench  rising  from  the  valley 
of  Johosophat  to,  ah,  ah,  to  change  it  from  your  own 
son,  Brother  Lowton!" 

"Fl  be  gol  durned,  Elder  '£-" 


ELDER  MAKES  A  PASTORAL  CALL    163 

"Don't!  Brother  Lowton,  don't  blaspheme,"  rais- 
ing a  reproving  hand,  "I'd  like— I  mean  I  ask,  I  would 
like — like— to  be  quiet  and  calm  like  yourself  under 
these  diversations  and  destractions,  Brother  Lowton, 
but  when  I  see  the  ah — ah,  the  many  perversions  of 
sin  ramping  like  a  roaring  lion,  seeking  what  it  can 
find  to  eat,  and  not  finding  it,  devour  the  innocent  and 
the  guilty  alike,  for  they  seek  to  cast  dispersion  upon 
my  sacred  calling,  if  not  myself,  by  this  removal  of  a 
daypraved  specimen  of— a,  ah — " 

"Hoi'  on,  Elder,  jes'  wait  a  minit,  no  wait,  I  tell 
ye,"  for  the  preacher  was  about  to  interrupt.  "Gol 
durn  't,  ye're  steppin'  so  durn  high  I  ain't  findin'  it  nun 
easy  t'  foller  ye.  I  don'  mean  nothin'  pussonal  Elder," 
apologetically,  "but  I'd  be  a  leetle  ashamed  o'  myself 
t'  git  so  durn  excited  'bout  nothin'." 

Then  recalling  his  late  struggle  in  the  road  which 
it  finally  occurred  to  him  the  minister  might  have  seen, 
he  decided  upon  a  slight  change  in  his  reproof,  which 
the  finding  of  a  tiny  straw  under  the  seat  made  pos- 
sible, and  continued,  "Bout  anythin'  'f  I  were  an  eddi- 
cated  preacher  of  the  Gospel,"  concluding  placidly. 
It  had  come  to  his  mind,  slowly,  that  the  Elder  was 
more  scared  than  hurt  by  what  he  was  endeavoring  to 
elucidate.  The  minister  was  so  astonished  by  this  re- 
proof from  his  brother  hyprocite  that  he  simply  stared 
for  a  moment,  yet  so  pleased  withal  at  the  recognition 
of  his  scholarship,  that  he  said  nothing.  During  a 
lengthy  wait,  in  which  he  mastered,  if  not  his  fears,  at 
least  their  expression,  he  resumed:— 

"I  was  excited,  Brother  Lowton,  and  in  all  humilia- 
tion I  pardon  you  and  myself  both  for  the  correction. 
I  was  only  trying  to  say  however  that  in  stealing  that 
victim  of  daypravity  from  Brother  Kendall,  Farmer 
Bibbins  and  Dr.  Gilbert  was  trying  to  cast  dispersion 


i64  FARMER  BIBBINS 

upon  myself  and  professions  and  to  bring  trouble  upon 
the  son  of  a  most  noble  man."  He  gave  one  quick 
glance  at  the  Hog  to  note  the  effect  of  his  statement 
but  that  gentleman  was  quite  complacently  chewing  the 
cud  of  his  admonition,  for  none  of  the  other's  real 
meaning  had  yet  found  lodgement  in  his  brain  and  he 
was  undisturbed. 

The  Elder  decided  to  explode  a  mine  and  the  other's 
complacency  at  one  and  the  same  time.  But  first  to  lay 
the  fuse. 

"Brother  Lowton,  the  person  to  whom  I  defer  was 
up  to  a  few  weeks  ago  a  tramp  whom  Brother  Kendall 
in  the  kindest  of  his  hearts,  (at  the  same  time  sorely 
needing  a  hired  man,)  took  pity  on  and  sent  him  into 
his,  ah,  ah,  farm  yards  and  fields  to  plow  and  milk. 
Not  to  cast  dispersion  upon  a  faithful  member  of  my 
Flock,  it  was  a  most  ungodly,  ah  ah,  a  most  unwise 
thing  to  do.  But  he  did,  and  he  continued  in  the  faith- 
less performance  of  his  labor  until  a  few  days  ago  he 
fell  from  a  high,  that  is  a,  ah,  place  in  the  barn  and 
broke  his  legs,  which  also  was  a  most  fo— that  is,  just 
punishment  for  unseemly  curiosity. 

Bony  was  now  sitting  up  and  beginning  to  take  no- 
tice. He  had  heard  of  the  tramp  and  some  other  things 
in  connection  with  him,  but  knowing  of  no  personal 
reason  for  interesting  himself  in  the  man  had  quite  for- 
gotten him.  He  looked  at  the  Elder  who  was  stand- 
ing by  the  wheel  once  more,  but  who  now  looked  any- 
where except  at  the  man  on  the  seat,  who  by  the  way 
was  running  an  unclean  hand  under  the  seat-cushion 
in  search  of  something,  and  finding  it  conveyed  it  to 
his  lips,  at  which  he,  the  one  on  the  seat  said,  "Wai?" 

"It  has  been  gossiply  reported,  Brother  Lowton, 
that  the  tramp  was  the  man  who  struck  that  unclean 
and  itinerating  son  of — a, — ah — of  Moses,"  the  name 


ELDER  MAKES  A  PASTORAL  CALL    165 

no  doubt  recalling  a  possible  ancestry,  "that  time  he 
was  found  in  the  stable  by  his  dog,— that  is — by  Farm- 
er Bibbins,  whose  dog,— the  a— ah — Hebrew  sent  to 
bring  him." 

He  was  finding  it  a  diverting  task  to  make  plain  the 
"gossiply"  report  and  to  prevent  the  one — who,  in 
his  desperate  effort  to  grasp  the  meaning  of  it  all,  was 
searching  him — from  finding  the  source  or  motive  of 
his  revelation  and  guessing  the  truth  he  was  consistent- 
ly incoherent.  However  he  managed  to  get  it  out  after 
a  time. 

"Wai?"  when  the  Elder  paused. 

"You  understand,  Brother  Lowton,  I  am  not  excus- 
ing any  man,  however  daypraved  his  calling  from  do- 
ing the  best,  ah,  ah,  from  doing  the  worst  a,  ah,  that 
is,  from  the  result  of  his  sins.  It  is  so  foreign  to  my 
nature  and  sacred  calling  to  seldom  suspect  a  fellow 
being  of  crime  that  I  find  it  exceeding  hard  even  now 
to  keep  from  arousing  my  angry  passions  at  the  sus- 
picions I  have  long  entertained  that  the  tramp  and  not 
your  son  was  the  guilty  man!" 

"What  in  hell!     Elder!" 

Whether  the  Elder  had  miscalculated  the  length  of 
his  fuse,  or  had  entirely  forgotten  his  intention  of 
springing  a  mine  under  the  other  until  the  explosion 
occurred  will  never  be  known  for  the  concussion  found 
Bony  on  the  ground  and  the  Elder  in  the  air  where  he 
remained  most  of  the  time  till  his  sacred  person  was 
lost  to  sight  beyond  the  grove  where  the  last  notes  of 
the  Bird's  tuneful  melody  was  heard  a  little  earlier 
in  the  day. 


CHAPTER  XV 


I 


cause  of  earthquakes  and  kindred  dis- 
turbances will  ever  remain  a  mystery  until 
scientists   turn   their   attention   in   directions 
hitherto  outside  the  line  of  their  investiga- 
tions. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  eruption  caused  by  the  explo- 
sion of  the  Elder's  mine  produced  one  result  akin  to 
those  suggested,  not  merely  in  causing  him  to  flee  its 
place  of  action  for  one  of  safety,  but  in  the  unconscious 
Bony  whose  feet  touched  the  earth  no  sooner  than  his 
head.  When  Mother  Lowton  heard  the  distressed 
outcry  of  her  partner,  she  dropped  the  bucket  of  ashes 
she  had  just  taken  from  the  parlor  stove  where  fires 
were  now  maintained,  and  ran  to  the  kitchen  door.  At 
first  she  saw  nothing  but  the  team  standing  quietly  in 
the  road.  It  would  have  taken  a  full  sized  earthquake 
to  have  startled  them.  The  Elder  was  already  out  of 
sight,  and  she  thought  the  men  must  have  gone  to  the 
barn.  Recalling  the  note  of  distress  in  the  cry  she  look- 
ed more  closely  and  then  as  her  glance  fell  beneath 
the  wagon  she  saw  her  "old  man"  lying  in  the  dust  on 
the  far  side  of  the  wheels.  Even  then  in  spite  of  the 
half  toned  scream  which  had  brought  her  out,  she  had 
no  suspicion  of  the  present  tragedy.  She  only  realized 
that  her  spouse  was  characteristically  "doin'  sum  fool 
thin'  er  nuther  ez  usual?"  and  spoke  accordingly: 

"Git  outer  that  air  dirt,  ye  good  fer  nuthin'  old 
creetur !  Ye're  I  be  a  draggin'  the  innards  out  o'  me 
tryin'  t'  make  both  ends  meet,  and  ye're  a  lazin'  the 

1 66 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    167 

life  outer  yer  ole  carcass  layin'  in  the  road,"  slowly  ap- 
proaching the  prostrate  figure,  hands  to  her  hips  and 
elbows  extended  at  right  angles.  "Whar'r  ye,  Elder? 
ye  los'  yer  hearin'?"  looking  in  vain  for  that  worthy 
man.  "Ain't  I  gone  an'  got  tea  an'  toast  an'  eggs  fer 
him?  Every  one  'ud  think  ye'd  ben  listenin'  t'  one  o' 
his  sermons,  the  way  ye're  snorin'  there,"  once  more 
directing  her  attention  to  the  loud  breathing  Bony. 
"Git  up,  or  I'll— My  Lord  a  mighty,  'f  the  man  ain't 
gone  an'  got  tuk  with  a  fit  or  suthin!  Ye're,  Elder! 
Elder!"  she  screeched,  but  not  in  fright.  "Where  in 
all  git  out  ez  that  drivilin'  ninny  gon'  t'  eny  way?" 
again  inquiringly  looking  in  every  direction.  "  'F  he 
knowed  them  eggs  an'  toast  wuz  reddy  I'l  bet  a  pan  o' 
milk  he  wudn't  be  far  off.  Elder!  Elder!  ain't  ye 
never  comin'  t'  help  me  git  this  member  o'  yer  Flock 
inter  the  house?" 

No  one  answering  she  stooped  to  the  limp  figure  and 
tried  to  raise  it. 

"No  use,  can't  do  it,"  she  said  and  again  she  called, 
this  time  with  success. 

"I'm  er  comin',  Mother  Lowton,"  shouted  a  fami- 
liar voice,  "what  in  the  Ole  Harry  ye  scheechin'  so  fer; 
'ts  nuff  to  raze  the  ded,"  it  commented.  "Gol  dern 
it,"  as  the  owner  of  the  voice  came  running  up  the 
road  "What's  up  'ith  ole  Bony?"  forgetting  to  whom 
he  was  speaking  in  his  astonishment?  "Didn'  did  it?" 

"Didn'  what?" 

"Raze  the  ded." 

"Raze  nuthin',  he  ain't  ded  nun,  he's  jes'  hed  a  fit 
er  suthin'."  Mr.  Simmons  bent  over  the  unconscious 
form  for  a  second  and  then  spoke. 

"Wai,  he'll  never  hev  nuther." 

"What  d'  ye  mean,  Bert?"  slightly  anxious. 

"Nuthin',    Mother    Lowton,    on'y    Mister    Lowton 


168  FARMER  BIBBINS 

wont  hev  nuther  after  he's  threw  'ith  this  un,"  solemn- 
ly.   "I  guess  '£  ye'l  jes'  git  hoi'  o'  his  feet,  we'd  better 
tote  him  t'  bed,"  lifting  him  up  by  the  shoulders. 
"Thar,  kin  ye  do't,  Mother?"  ' 
"I  guess  so,  he's  purty  hevvy  though." 
The  two  carried  the  old  man  to  the  house  and  laid 
him  on  his  bed  in  the  kitchen  bedroom. 

"I'l  jes'  take  them  horses  an'  bring  Doc  Gilbert. 
He's  over  t'  Bibbins'  I  guess,  'bout  this  time.  I  hearn 
they  got  nuther  man  over  thar  'ith  his  hed  er  legs 
broken — er  suthin'  broke  enyhow.  I  won't  be  gone 

Ion',"  and  was  off. 

************* 

"Jes'  in  time,  Doc,  I  callated  I'd  ketch  ye  'bout  this 
time,"  said  Mr.  Simmons  stopping  the  team  at  the 
Bibbins  gate  at  the  moment  Dr.  Gilbert  was  driving 
away. 

"How  are  you,  Mr.  Simmons?  What  can  I  do  for 
you?" 

"Nuthin  fer  me,  Doc,  I'm  all  hunk-o-dory.  On'y 
Bony  he's  got  suthin'  alright  'at's  goin'  t'  las'  ez  Ion'  ez 
he  doz'  er  I'll  miss  my  guess." 

"What's  the  trouble  with  Mr.  Lowton?" 

"Dunno,  'at's  what  Mother  Lowton  wan's  ye  t'  tell 
her.  Say,  Doc,  what'n  blazes  d'ye  doctors  allus  ask  us 
fellers  when  we  come  fer  ye,  'What's  the  matter  'ith 
whomsever  is  sick?'  Spose  we'd  be  comin'  fer  ye, 
gol  dern  't,  'f  we  knowed?  Er  ez  't  jes  coz  when  ye 
gits  wharsumever  yer  goin'  t'  see  the  patient  ye  wan' 
t'  be  sure  of  yer  own  agnosticisms?"  and  the  Bird  grin- 
ned thinking  of  "how  he  hed  cum  ont'  over  Doc  Gil- 
bert oncet." 

"Our  agnosticisms  do  keep  us  guessing  most  of  the 
time,  Bert,  sure  enough,"  the  Doctor  laughingly  re- 
plied. Bert  continued; — 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    169 

"Spose  ye  call  one  er  Farmer  Bibbins'  hired  men 
to  take  these  yere  skeletons  back,  an'  I'll  ride  'ith  ye. 
Guess  I  orter  enyway,  'sides  I  got  suthin'  I'd  like  t'  tell 
ye  'bout  Bony,  an'  the  Elder,  an'  lot  o'  other  thin's. 
Kin  ye  git  one  on  em,  d'ye  spose,  Doc?" 

"Wait  a  minute  till  I  turn  the  mare  around,  Bert, 
and  I'll  inquire  of  Mr.  Bibbins."  Dr.  Gilbert  drove 
up  to  the  Bibbins  house  again. 

"Will  you  please  infrom  Mr.  Bibbins  that  I  wish  to 
speak  with  him,  Maggie?"  Farmer  Bibbins  came  out. 

"Wood,  Mr.  Simmons  is  at  the  gate.  Something 
has  happened  to  Mr.  Lowton  and  they  have  sent  him 
for  me.  Could  you  get  your  overcoat  and  drive  my  rig 
over?  Bert  wishes  to  tell  me  something.  If  you  can 
it  would  give  me  an  opportunity  of  talking  with  him 
before  I  see  any  of  the  Lowtons,  and  of  talking  with 
you  afterwards  coming  back." 

"Certainly,  Doc,  I'll  be  with  you  in  no  time." 

"Now  Bert,  let's  hear  it,"  Dr.  Gilbert  requested 
when  they  were  driving  back  towards  the  Lowton  place. 

"Wai,  Doc,  to  'gin  sumers,"  clearing  his  throat, 
"  'Tother  day  when  I  seen  ye  at  Farmer  Bibbins',  I 
was  so  gol  dern  mad  'bout  the  way  these  fool  farmers 
hed  ben  bamboozled  by  ole  Bony  'gainst  Farmer  Bib- 
bins,  'at  afore  I  knowed  't  I  wuz  drivin'  over  t'  see 
Mister  Lowton,  an'  sorter  prepare  the  way  fer— what 
ye're  'bout  doin'  now— makin'  a  perfeshnal  call  like!" 
at  which  they  both  laughed,  the  doctor  because  he 
remembered  Mr.  Simmons'  threat  to  make  it  necessary 
to  repack  Bony's  "jints,"  and  the  Bird  not  merely  be- 
cause he  had  uttered  a  witticism  but  because  he  recol- 
lected another  incident  connected  with  his  going  at  the 
time— his  meeting  with  the  Elder  on  the  Kendall  Hill. 

"I  wuz  goin'  long  meditatin'  on  jes'  how  I'd  let  out 
on  the  ole  skinflint,  when  I  happened  t'  look  up  an'  I 


170  FARMER  BIBBINS 

seen  the  Elder  pokin'  'round  in  the  bresh,  lookin'  fer  a 
bundle  o'  wheat  or  suthin'  else  a — " 

"What's  that?  You  saw  Elder  Coffee  by  the  road 
near  the  Kendall  Hill?  At  what  time?" 

"  'Bout  one  'clock,  'twas  after  I'd  left  Farmer  Bib- 
bins." 

"You  are  sure?" 

"Sartain  sure,  why  d'ye  ast?" 

"Because  he — no  go  on,  I  will  explain  later!  But 
don't  leave  out  one  word,  Bert.  This  is  far  more  im- 
portant than  I  could  make  clear  in  the  little  time  we 
have." 

"Wai,  the  Elder  wuz  so  gol  dern  scart  'bout  suthin', 
coz  I  kinder  sprised  him,  'at  he  cud  hardly  speak  at 
oncet,  an'  after  he  slung  a  lot  o'  words  'bout  suthin' 
I  ain't  nun  sure  on  yit,  he  sorter  lit  inter  me,  and  I  sure 
warbled  sum  to  him,  an'  don'  ye  fergit  't." 

The  doctor  listened  intently,  alert  to  every  word  of 
Bert's  story  from  the  meeting  with  the  Elder  near  the 
Kendall  Hill,  down  to  the  last  view  he  had  of  him  as 
he  sped  through  the  grove  near  where  Mr.  Simmons 
had  been  resting  his  body  and  working  his  mind  after 
leaving  Bony's  house  that  morning.  At  times  the  Doc- 
tor laughed  at  the  droll  turn  the  Bird  gave  to  his 
thoughts  and  the  characteristic  idioms  of  his  speech. 
He  was  also  amazed  at  the  keen,  incisive  manner  dis- 
played in  his  cutting  straight  to  the  Elder's  qualities 
or  lack  of  them.  He  had  known  Mr.  Simmons  for 
years  in  a  casual  way,  but  never  before  recognized  the 
quality  of  the  man's  intelligence,  or  the  splendid  sim- 
plicity of  his  wisely,  though  unconsciously  expressed 
thoughts.  That  he  was  an  honest  happy-go-lucky 
young  farmer,  who  had  married  above  his  station  ac- 
cording to  the  village  report,  and  deserved  the  title  of 
"The  Bird,"  conferred  upon  him  by  the  neighbors,  was 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    171 

about  all  he  knew.  Now  however  with  no  other 
thought— and  that  as  entirely  unconscious  in  its  ap- 
plication as  was  "The  Bird"  in  his  humorous  recital— 
but  of  the  man's  lofty  ideals  and  high  standard  of  in- 
tegrity, the  doctor  looked  at  the  Bird  and  said : 

"Mr.  Simmons  I  am  going  to  honor  myself  by  giv- 
ing you  my  utmost  confidence.  Not  now,  for  we  arc 
at  Lowton's,  but  if  you  will  come  to  the  village  to- 
night and  bring  Farmer  Bibbins  with  you  I  will  tell  you 
both  a  story  that  will  astonish  you  more  than  you  have 
ever  been  in  your  life.  Can  you  come?" 

"Sartain  I  kin,  an'  I  will  too,  by  gosh,  'f  I  hev  to 
drive  this  yere  ole  team  o'  plugs  sideways  t'  git  thar," 
equally  proud  of  the  doctor's  recognition  and  his  own 
classification  with  Farmer  Bibbins. 

"Very  good.  While  I  am  in  the  house  there,  you 
make  the  arangement  for  the  call  on  me  tonight,  say 
at  nine  o'clock,  with  Mr.  Bibbins.  I  don't  think  I  shall 
be  long  in  the  house  from  what  you  have  told  me." 

"Farmer  Bibbins,  the  Doc  want's  me  an'  you  t'  call 
at  his  office  t'night  'bout  nine  o'clock.  Kin  ye  do  't?" 

"I  think  so,  Bert.  But  what  in  the  world  does  he 
want  us  to  do  that  for?  He  said  nothing  to  me  about 
it." 

"Dunno,  'nless  'tis  t'  sorter  compare  notes.  Me 
an'  him  got  a  leetle  matter  we  ben  kinder  talkin'  over 
and  I  sorter  think  ye'll  be  interested  in  't,"  looking 
squarely  into  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Bibbins  who  returned 
the  look  questioningly. 

"What  is  it,  Bert?"  he  said,  the  eyes  of  neither  wav- 
ering. 

"Lots;  I'm  on'y  going  to  spout  o'  one  thin'  now 
howsumever.  Farmer  Bibbins,  I  wanter  say  'at  I  wuz 
allus  jes'  as  sincerious  a  'posing  'at  factory  scheme  o' 
yourn  ez  ye  wuz  in  tryin'  t'  make  't  work.  I  didn'  see  't 


172  FARMER  BIBBINS 

nun  ez  ye  seen  't,  cos  I  tho't  it  wuz  a  bad  idee  t'  gin  up 
a  sure  market  f  er  an  unsure  one,  an'  I  fit  an'  fit 't  till  all 
t'  onct  I  seen  't  tother  way— now  ye  wait  a  minit — I 
says  t'  Lista,  I  sez,  sez  I,  'Lista  I'm  threw  fitin'  'at  air 
factory  Farmer  Bibbins  is  a  tryin'  t'  put  up,  on'y  I  ain't 
threw  fitin'  neether,  'sez  I:'  But  I'm  goin'  t'  fite  on 
tother  side,  I  sez,  sez  I.  An'  'Lista,  she  sez,  sez  she, 
'Bertie  (she  allus  calls  me  Bertie)  now  ye're  talkin' 
sense,  ain't  I  allus  lowed  'twas  yer  ign'rance  that  made 
yc  fite  on  the  wrong  side?'  An'  I  sez,  sez  I,  'Lista, 
I  sez,  'twas !'  An'  'twas  too,  by  gosh,  an'  all  I  want 
t'  say  now  Farmer  Bibbins  is  'f  I  cud  kick  suthin'  'ith- 
out  hurtin'  on  it  er  me,  I'd  be  gol  derned  'f  I  wouldn't 
swing  her  oncet  jes'  fer  luck." 

Before  Mr.  Simmons  could  proceed,  Farmer  Bibbins 
had  clasped  his  hand  and  was  saying: 

"But  you  haven't  told  me  anything  new  except  the 
attitude  of  your  wife  and  I  wish  to  say  now  that  1 
never  for  a  minute  believed  aught  but  what  you  have 
just  told  me  and  I  admired  you  for  your  open  candid 
opposition,  as  I  do  now  for  your  frank  expression  and 
late  assistance  in  securing  patrons.  Let's  forget  it.  It's 
a  failure  you  know,  anyway,"  dejectedly. 

"Not  by  a  gosh  dern  sight  taint  no  failure.  I  got 
suthin'  t'  tell  ye  Farmer  Bibbins  ez  I  hed  Doc  Gilbert, 
on'y  suthin'  diffrunt,  and  taint  so  gol  dern  diffrunt 
neether  arter  all,  I'm  thinkin'." 

"What  else  Bert?" 

"Nuthin'  now;  on'y  when  ye  git  t'  hum,  ye  jes'  tell 
Mrs.  Bibbins  'at  the  Bird's  got  more  t'  sing  'bout  now 
than  et  any  time  sence  he's  knowed  her,  and  twont  be 
long  afore  he's  singin'  by  'lectricity  in  her  own  house 
too  by  gosh." 

The  Bird's  laughter  following  this  statement  did 
more  to  cheer  Farmer  Bibbins  than  anything  occurring 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    173 

since  he  learned  of  Bony's  treachery  regarding  the  con- 
tracts. 

Dr.  Gilbert  came  out  and  interrupted: 

"I  can  do  nothing  for  the  old  man,"  he  explained 
to  them.  "He  has  had  a  shock  and  doubtless  will 
never  recover,  though  he  may  linger  on  in  the  present 
condition  for  some  days  until  a  recurrence  of  the  mal- 
ady, though  a  few  hours  will  probably  be  all.  But  some- 
thing ought  to  be  done  for  Mrs.  Lowton,  poor  worn 
out  soul.  The  other  boys  have  gone  to  Riverton  and 
will  not  return  before  night  anyway,  and  there  is  no 
one  to  help  or  stay  with  her." 

"I  think  the  wife  would  be  willing  to  come,  Doc,  till 
someone  else  can  be  found." 

"No,  Wood,  I  would  never  sanction  it,  she  has 
enough  on  her  hands  now." 

"I'll  jes'  go  over  and  bring  Lista.  She  ain't  nun 
stuck  on  any  o'  'ern,  but  she'd  cum  Doc,  'f  ye  think 
'twould  be  a  help.  Me  an'  the  men  kin  git  on  alright." 

"Indeed  it  would,  Bert;  and  thank  you  both  for  your 
offers  of  aid.  Could  you  run  down  to  the  village  to- 
night if  she  does?  I  suppose  you  have  arranged  with 
Mr.  Bibbins?" 

"Yep,  we'll  be  thar,  Doc,  'ith  both  feet." 

"All  right  then,  come  Farmer  Bibbins,  I'll  leave  you 
at  your  door.  I  must  be  off,"  and  Doctor  Gilbert  drove 
away,  followed  a  few  minutes  later  by  Mr.  Simmons. 

"You  will  remember  our  conversation  was  abruptly 
terminated  last  evening,  Wood,"  said  Dr.  Gilbert  when 
they  had  started  homeward,  "and  while  much  has  been 
made  clear  to  me  since,  I  meant  to  ask  one  question. 
You  will  not  mind?  It  is  a  mutual  interest  anyway," 
explaining  his  reason  for  recalling  the  subject  when 
Wood  asented.  "At  the  time  you  found  the  handker- 
chief did  you  see  anyone,  no  matter  who,  on  the  road 


174  FARMER  BIBBINS 

or  near  your  buildings?" 

"Yes,  that  is,  I  saw  a  rig,  horse  and  top  buggy,  but 
not  the  driver." 

"Did  you  recognize  either  the  horse  or  carriage?" 

"I  am  not  positive,  but  think  I  did.  The  driver  was 
going  at  a  great  lick  and  was  soon  out  of  sight.  But 
I—"  he  hesitated. 

"You  don't  want  to  say?"  the  doctor  inquired. 

"That's  just  it.  I  don't,  still  I  ought  to,  too,  I 
suppose,"  still  hesitating. 

"Do  you  hesitate  because  of  what  your  nephew  re- 
vealed to  you  last  night?" 

"Yes." 

"Farmer  Bibbins,  you  know  absolutely,  do  you  not, 
that  it  is  no  idle  curiosity  impelling  my  interest  in  this 
matter?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it,  Doc,  I  trust  you  as  I  do  Frances. 
But  this  is  not  all  my  own  aftair.  If  it  were  I  would 
repeat  everything  I  know  or  believe." 

"Thank  you  Wood,  now  don't  interrupt  me,  and  I 
will  prove  to  you  that  you  have  nothing  to  repeat  to  me 
of  importance  which  I  do  not  already  know.  Say  noth- 
ing till  I'm  through  though  I  may  speak  plainly  and 
may  astonish  you.  I  will  make  all  clear  tonight  how- 
ever; I  would  now  only  I  haven't  the  time.  But  first, 
don't  leave  home  before  eight  this  evening.  I  may 
drive  up  and  remain  all  night  with  you.  You  keep 
Bert  until  that  hour;  if  I  am  not  with  you  then,  come  to 
the  village  with  him." 

Producing  a  cigar,  he  began;— 

"The  rig  you  speak  of  was  the  one  young  Lowton 
once  owned,,  but  he  was  not  the  driver,  nor  is  he  the 
owner.  The  Reverend  Hosiah — I  sometimes  speak  of 
him  to  myself  as  the  Reverend  Horsehair,  it  is  so 
appropriate,  (besides  Hosiah  means  deliverer  and  the 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    175 

Elder  never  delivers)— was  the  driver  as  he  is  now  the 
owner.  He  it  was  who  hung  the  handkerchief  in  the 
window,  then  proceeded  with  what  should  result  in 
hanging  Mr.  Coffee.  Startles  you  somewhat,  does  it 
not?" 

"It  certainly  does,"  Farmer  Bibbins  replied. 

"I  thought  it  would;  but  this  will  still  more;  I  know 
who  struck  Mose.  No,  no,  wait,"  Wood  had  exclaim- 
ed at  this  statement. 

"When  I  say  I  know  who  did  it,  I  speak  the  exact 
truth,  though  I  know  it  only  from  deducing  facts  from 
theories.  I  couldn't  prove  it  and  I  shall  not  try  till  I 
know  more,  and  then  only  to  clear  one  who  thinks  him- 
self guilty.  So  for  one  reason  at  least,  you  will  ap- 
preciate why  I  do  not  mention  the  person's  name  at 
present.  Another  reason  for  withholding  it,  however, 
is  that  the  man  who  believes  himself  guilty  in  the  eyes 
of  the  law  is  guiltless  in  the  sight  of  God." 

Farmer  Bibbins  was  even  more  amazed  and  grate- 
fully showed  it. 

"Yet  another,  though  in  a  sense  the  same,  reason; 
the  men  (I  say  men  for  more  than  one  man  is  con- 
cerned) who  are  guilty  in  the  sight  of  God  are  not 
in  a  legal  sense  save  only  one  of  them  except  as  ac- 
cessories before  and  after  the  fact.  The  day  the 
crime  was  committed,  you  and  your  men  were  busy 
in  the  field  reaping  and  setting  up  oats.  Your  wife  had 
driven  to  the  Center  to  find  a  girl,  Maggie,  who 
came  to  you  a  little  later  and  is  with  you  now.  That 
left  no  one  about  your  premises.  Sometime  during  the 
afternoon  Mose  came  to  the  house  but  finding  no  one 
went  to  the  barn,  and  leaving  the  Prophet  on  guard 
lay  down  on  some  hay  on  the  barn  floor  to  rest.  He 
was  not  alone  in  the  barn  though  he  probably  believed 
that  he  was.  There  was  another  man  asleep  on  the 


176  FARMER  BIBBINS 

hay  mow,  of  which  fact  not  even  the  dog  was  suspici- 
ous. The  man  higher  up  was  a  caller  earlier  in  the 
day,  probably  about  noon,  at  the  house  we  have  just 
left.  He  was  seen  by  my  informant,  though  I  am  sure 
he  spoke  the  truth  about  that  call  in  one  particular 
only.  He— the  man  who  told  me— says  that  the 
tramp  asked  for  dinner  but  was  refused  and  swearing 
at  Bony,  who  answered  his  knocking,  when  away,  com- 
ing this  way  evidently,  for  a  little  later  he  was  asleep 
on  your  hay." 

The  doctor  paused,  profoundly  thoughtful  for  a  mo- 
ment during  which  neither  man  spoke.  Then  he  pro- 
ceeded. 

"What  happened  afterward  we  know  in  result  only. 
It  is  certain  however  that  some  one  had  seen  the  ped- 
dler enter  your  barn  and  thought  it  an  opportune  time 
to  renew  his  importunities  for  a  loan.  Whether  this 
other  person  was  alone  or  accompanied  by  another,  I 
am  not  sure,  but  I  am  sure  that  it  was  not  many  min- 
utes before  a  fourth  person  came  upon  the  scene,  if 
he  did  not  actually  accompany  Number  Three.  Wheth- 
er his  presence  was  even  known  by  the  so-called  tramp 
is  exceedingly  doubtful.  That  the  third  and  fourth 
comers  were  equally  interested  in  the  peddler  is  cer- 
tain as  I  know  from  more  recent  development." 

Once  more  the  doctor  endeavored  to  penetrate  the 
mystery  at  which  his  discourse  had  ai  rived,  but  it  was 
evident  that  he  could  not,  and  he  went  on;— 

"Whatever  occurred,  and  whether  it  was  after  the 
arrival  of  the  last  man,  or  at  the  moment  of  his  com- 
ing into  or  near  enough  to  the  barn  to  witness  what 
was  being  enacted  therein,  I  cannot  say.  But  the  lat- 
ter, I  think.  At  any  rate  he  had  seen  enough  to  com- 
pel his  partner  in  other  things  if  not  in  this  affair  to 
purchase  his  horse  and  new  Maud  S.  carriage  for  a 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    177 

little  ready  cash.  He  told  me  he  traded  for  it.  We 
know  that  Elder  Coffee  never  in  his  life  had  enough  to 
pay  full  value  for  them,  for  they  are  worth  from  $350.- 

00  to  $400.00  at  the  least.     But  we  are  at  your  gate, 
Farmer  Bibbins  and  I  want  you  to  get  out  now  and  ask 
me  nothing,  till  we  meet  either  here  or  at  my  office 
tonight.     Then  you  may  ask  anything  you  please  and 

1  will  give  you  the  information  if  I  can.     I  am  sure  I 
can  by  that  time.     Say  nothing,  but  don't  think.  You 
are  not  used  to  it  you  know.     So  long,"  and  laughing 
at  the  farmer's  perplexity  the  doctor  drove  away  in 
the  direction  of  Madran. 

When  he  was  beyond  view  from  the  Bibbins  farm, 
he  turned  his  horse  into  a  lane,  short  cutting  a  way  to 
the  Riverton  road,  and  in  thirty  minutes  was  watch- 
ing the  Kendall  premises  through  a  field  glass  from 
the  top  of  the  Kendall  Hill,  where  both  he  and  his 
horse  were  screened  by  the  roadside  brush.  Twenty 
minutes  he  waited.  Bonny  was  nipping  the  frostbitten 
leaves  and  twigs  in  lieu  of  a  better  dinner,  but  other- 
wise as  placidly  patient  as  the  man  who  stood  near  by 
patting  her  head  now  and  then  and  giving  her  lumps  of 
sugar  until  his  supply  was  exhausted. 

"They  will  have  finished  dinner  soon,  Bonny,"  the 
doctor  was  saying  to  the  mare  whose  lip  was  searching 
a  pocket  in  his  great  coat.  "And  the  Elder  will  be 
coming  out;  unless  he  has  already  gone.  I  hardly 
think  he  has  though  for  he  likes  a  good  dinner  too  well 
to  leave  one  even  though  he  is  scared  nearly  out  of  his 
wits.  He  will  have  none  left  when  we  get  through 
with  him,  Bonny  girl.  Hallo,  there's  Kendall  and  his 
hired  man.  Now  I  wonder  if  Kendall  is  going  to  leave 
that  old  wolf  with  his  household  lambs,  or  has  he  al- 
ready departed.  If  he  — ah,  good,  there's  the  Elder, 
clothed  and  in  his  right  mind,  if  his  bent  form  is  in- 


i78  FARMER  BIBBINS 

dicative  of  penitence  or,  fear,  or  both;  and  he  is  com- 
ing out  into  the  road,  Bonny;  going  to  do  something 
he  isn't  fond  of  either— walk  to  Madran.  We  might 
take  him  in,  but  we  wont,  not  now.  We  will  wait  until 
tonight  for  that;  it  will  be  a  most  appropriate  hour 
for  him  and  it  will  be  for  the  last  time,  as  it  will  be 
the  last  time  he  will  ever  take  in  anybody  in  this  com- 
munity. That's  right,  Elder,  take  a  good  long  look  at 
the  house — or  the  girl,  whichever  is  receiving  your  at- 
tention. If  you  are  wise  you  will  be  far  distant  from 
both  by  tomorrow  at  this  time.  Already,  Bonny,"  strip- 
ping her  of  the  long  heavy  blanket.  "The  man  of  sacred 
calling  is  going  cross  lots,  which  is  well.  I'll  bet  you 
a  pound  of  loaf  sugar,  girl,  that  he  refused  Kendall's 
offer  to  carry  him  home  for  no  other  reason  than  that 
he  prefers  to  be  alone  to  distract  himself  with  a  little 
diverting  thought!  Poor  Elder,"  the  doctor  could 
not  restrain  a  smile,  although  really  sorry  for  the  man ; 
not  for  what  he  would  leave  behind  but  for  what  he 
would  have  to  take  away.  His  satisfaction  at  discover- 
ing what  he  wanted  to  know— whether  or  not  the 
Elder  had  already  run  away,  more  than  balanced  his 
sorrow  for  the  other  man's  worries. 
"Come,  Bonny,  our  dinner's  waiting." 
"Lista !  hey  Lista !"  shouted  Mr.  Simmons  when  he 
drew  rein  at  his  own  gate,  a  few  minutes  after  Dr.  Gil- 
bert had  driven  away  from  Lowton's.  "Whar  'n  tun- 
ket's  'at  'ooman  o'  mine  ennyway?  She  ain't  never 
'round  nun  when  she's  wanted,  gol  dern  it;  Lista!"  he 
shouted  once  more. 

"Shet  up  you  ijit,  can't  you  see  nothin'?"  Spoke  a 
pleasantly  authoratative  voice  from  the  other  side  of 
the  wagon  where  a  laughing  buxom  figure  of  a  woman 
appeared  unexpectedly.  "I've  been  here  right  under 
your  nose  ever  since  you  shouted  the  first  time.  What 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    179 

do  you  want  and  where  did  you  get  that  rig?" 

"I  want  sev'ral  thin's.  Fust  off,  I  got  this  rig  up  t' 
Bony's,  but  I'd  like  t'  know  'f  I'm  'at  air  twisted  in  my 
body  ez  I  am  in  my  minV 

"Twisted!     How?" 

"Ye  sed  ye'd  ben  unner  my  nose  all  the  time,  an'  I 
I  sposed  I  wuz  a  lookin'  tother  way." 

"You  big  injit,  I  was  only  talking." 

"I  knowed  'at  alright.  Fac'  I  wudn't  know  ye  nun 
'nless  ye  wuz  talkin',  cos  I  never  seen  ye  when  ye 
wuzn't,"  dropping  to  the  road  and  giving  her  a  bear- 
like  hug  and  a  bird-like  kiss. 

"What  are  you  doing  with  that  team,  Bertie?" 

"Dunno,  zackly,  but  kinder  tho't  I  wuz  arter  ye  t' 
go  t'  Bony's.  He's  ben  tuk  with  a-s-popopletic  fit  'r 
suthin',  an'  Doc  Gilbert  sed,"  looking  away  from  his 
wife,  "ez  how  ye'd  be  jes'  the  one  t'  cum  over  an'  kind- 
er straighten  thin's  up  a  leetle;  but  I  dunno  how  I'll  git 
'long  if  ye  go  Lista?"  turning  toward  her  pleadingly 
as  if  she  were  the  one  to  have  first  suggested  going 
and  for  a  long  indefinite  stay. 

"Certainly  I'll  go,  what  do  you  suppose  I  care  about 
how  you  get  along?  You  big  baby!  Hitch  the  team 
and  while  you  are  having  a  bite  I'll  change  my  clothes. 
I  won't  be  a  jiffy." 

His  mate  was  on  the  seat  of  the  "Democrat"  wagon, 
and  the  Bird  was  about  to  take  his  place  beside  her 
when  on  looking  up  he  fairly  bellowed:  "God,  a 
mighty!  What's  'at?"  so  loudly  that  the  team  jumped 
and  his  wife  nearly  fell  from  the  wagon. 

"What's  what?  you  ninny  you,"  she  asked  as  soon 
as  she  recovered  her  seat. 

"'N'at!"  pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  grove 
where  he  was  resting  when  the  Elder's  flight  and  Moth- 
er Lowton's  screams  interrupted  his  meditation. 


i8o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Well,  it  looks  like  a  fire,  doesn't  it?"  Lista  re- 
plied calmly.  "Was  that  what  made  you  yell  so  I  near- 
ly lost  my  seat?  You  are  getting  real  timid,  Bertie. 
You'd  better  come  out  of  the  woods,  you  and  your 
peddler,  and  your  lawyer,  if  your  doings  are  having 
such  an  effect  on  your  nerves.  You  wait  till  I  get  my 
comb  in  that  crinkly  head  of  yours  tonight.  I'll  take 
the  kinks  out  all  right  if  you  don't  tell  me  the  truth 
about  everything.' 

"Ye  know  all  I  know,  Lista,  sartain." 

"I  know  that  Bertie,  don't  gawp  any  longer,"  good 
naturedly,  "  climb  in.  You've  seen  smoke  before  and  if 
you  don't  stand  here  all  day  we'll  soon  see  that  closer 
and  where  it  comes  from  too." 

"Look  o'  thar,"  he  shouted  again  as  a  great  cloud 
of  smoke  rose  above  the  trees,  "I'll  be  doggoned  'f  I 
don't  believe  it's  Bony's  barn.  Giddap,  ye  ole  scare- 
crows," jumping  to  the  seat  and  heading  the  team  to- 
ward the  Lowton  place  at  the  same  time,  which  nearly 
upset  the  wagon. 

"Jump,  ye  critters,  'r  I'll  burn  the  ha'r  an'  hide  clean 
offen  ye,"  snapping  the  whip. 

Never  had  Bony,  although  he  was  a  cruel  driver, 
obtained  such  speed  from  his  half  fed  team  as  the  Bird 
by  shouts  and  whip-snapping  developed  on  the  return 
trip.  He  sorely  disliked  to  treat  them  so,  on  account 
of  their  ill-fed  condition,  but  he  was  sure  of  the  fire 
now  and  because  of  the  lonely  woman  and  paralyzed 
man  felt  the  necessity  of  urging  every  inch  and  second 
of  speed  from  them  of  which  they  were  capable.  Lista 
was  holding  to  the  seat  with  all  her  strength  while  her 
Bertie,  standing,  forced  the  team  ahead.  She  was  al- 
ready infected  with  his  fears  and  encouraged  him  in 
his  efforts.  There  was  no  doubt  in  their  minds  of  the 
fire's  locality  when  they  turned  the  corner  into  the  lit- 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    181 

tie-travelled   road  to  the   Lowton  homestead,   for  it 
could  be  plainly  seen  from  the  wagon. 

"The  house  co't  first,  Lista,  an'  the  fire  runned  threw 
the  straw  t'  the  barn !  The  hull  gol  dern  place  is  goin' 
surer  'n  h— ,  whoa  I  ye  dern  fools,  ye  ack  jes'  'f  ye 
liked  't  oncet  ye  got  started,  whoa,  ye  dern  idjits !  Ye 
wanner  keep  agoing  all  day?"  In  his  excitement  the 
words  ran  together  in  a  bird-like  trill. 

"Hol'on,  Lista,  till  I  see  'f  i  kin  fin'  Mother-Bony," 
springing  from  the  wagon  and  running  to  the  house, 
where  at  the  door  leading  to  the  parlor  the  flames  met 
him  and  the  smoke  drove  him  choking  into  the  air 
again.  Around  the  house  he  darted,  and  reaching  the 
back  shed  door,  wrenched  it  from  its  hinges  without 
waiting  to  see  if  it  were  fastened  or  if  the  conditions 
blocking  his  first  effort  were  to  be  repeated.  Fortunate- 
ly there  was  little  smoke  and  no  flame  here.  He  darted 
for  the  bedroom  where  he  found  Mother  Lowton  on 
the  floor  quite  as  unconscious  from  the  shock  of  the 
fire  in  the  house,  as  was  Bony  on  the  bed,  from  the 
shock  of  another  fire  within  himself. 

For  a  moment  the  Bird  stood  dumfounded  at  the 
picture  before  him.  Bony  was  lying  on  his  back  with 
mouth  and  eyes  wide  open,  the  eyes  forced  quite  as  far 
from  their  sockets  as  was  the  tongue,  which  extended 
its  full  length  along  his  shrivelled  chin  from  his  all  but 
toothless  mouth.  To  Bert  it  was  a  ghastly  picture  in- 
deed—for Bony  had  chewed  his  last  straw.  Then  he 
looked  down  at  the  old  woman  on  the  floor.  She  at 
any  rate  was  alive,  though  with  the  appearance  of 
death  on  the  livid  drawn  face  and  tightly  clutched 
hands.  He  bent  over  the  woman  for  a  second.  Then 
taking  her  under  his  left  arm,  he  reached  across  the 
bed  and  grasping  the  dead  man's  coat  rolled  him  nearer 
and  with  the  body  under  his  right  arm,  he  walked  from 


1 82  FARMER  BIBBINS 

the  room  and  house  as  quietly  and  easily  as  if  the  two 
bodies  were  two  bags  of  straw. 

"Are  they  dead?"  his  wife  called  when  he  came 
into  view. 

"One  is,  and  'tother  ain't"  he  responded.  "Bring 
sum  blankets,"  and  carrying  his  burden  beyond  the 
zone  of  danger  laid  them  on  the  hard  ground. 

"Hurry  up,  Lista,"  he  called.  "It's  purty  dern  cool 
out  yere." 

"Thar,"  when  they  had  covered  the  dead  and  made 
the  living  as  comfortable  as  possible.  "At's  'bout  all 
we  kin  do  till  she  comes  outer  'at  air  comet,  as  Doc 
Gilbert  'ud  say,"  said  the  Bird,  turning  away  and  look- 
ing toward  the  burning  buildings. 

"  'F  thar's  enny  horses  'r  stock  in  them  barns  they're 
goners  sure  'nuff.  Guess,  I'll  take  a  look.  Mebbe  I 
kin  do  suthin'  'f  thar  is." 

"Bert  Simmons !  don't  you  go  near  that  fire,  d'ye 
hear?  You've  done  enough  I  think  for  one  day.  What 
will  we  do  with  Mrs.  Lowton  when  she  comes  to?" 
trying  to  divert  him  from  his  intended  visit  to  the 
burning  barns. 

"Dunno,  I  leave  all  'at  t'  ye,  Lista,  guess  ye'l  think 
o'  'bout  the  right  thin'  t'  do.  I  won't  git  int'  no  risks 
o'  life  'r  lim,  but  I'm  goin'  t'  see  'f  thar's  any  one  o' 
them  other  horses  'r  cattle  o'  Bony's  in  thar.  Don'  ye 
worry  nun  though,  cos  I  ain't  goin'  int'  no  danger, 
Lista,  I'm  jes'  goin'  t'  walk  'round  a  leetle  t'  see  'f  I 
kin— gol  dern  't,  what's  at?" 

It  was  a  cry,  feeble,  but  a  cry  nevertheless;  from 
the  far  end  of  the  larger  barn  in  the  direction  of  which 
the  Bird  actually  flew,  unheeding  the  woman's  appeal 
to  keep  away. 

"This  sartainly  beats  'at  Romeo  and  Juliet  com- 
bustiflagration  'at  Nero  reads  to  Shakespeare  'bout! 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    183 

Gol  dern  't,  what's  gone  o'  my  in'lects,  I'm  a  mixin' 
skripture  worse  nor  the  Elder,"  he  shouted  quite  un- 
conscious of  speaking  as  doubtless  he  was  of  what  he 
was  trying  to  say  as  he  ran  around  a  rear  corner  of  the 
barn,  in  time  to  see  a  man  trying  to  crawl  away  through 
the  dense  smoke  enveloping  everything. 

"Here,  gol  dern  't,  somebody  cum  an'  help,"  calling 
to  any  or  all  of  the  different  neighbors  who  were  now 
coming  from  every  direction,  though  help  was  useless. 
The  Lowton  premises  were  situated  on  a  hill  of  con- 
siderable height  between  two  maple  groves,  "The 
Sugar  Bushes,"  they  were  called,  which  shut  out  all 
view  of  the  buildings  and  nearer  fields  from  the  other 
farms  round  about.  Bony  was  in  the  habit  of  burning 
whatever  refuse  accumulated  about  the  premises  when- 
ever it  became  an  obstruction  to  his  easy  going  meth- 
ods; hence  the  smoke  from  the  present  fire,  as  it  rose 
above  the  trees,  was  ignored  by  his  nearer  neighbors, 
as  smoke  in  that  particular  direction  was  a  frequent 
occurrence.  It  was  only  when  some  of  the  more  dis- 
tantly located  farmers,  like  Mr.  Simmons,  were  seen 
running  across  fields  afoot,  or  up  the  roads  horseback, 
or  by  whatever  was  the  quickest  and  most  convenient 
method  of  reaching  the  Lowton  place,  that  these  rec- 
ognized the  fire's  significance  and  joined  in  the  rush. 
It  was  because  the  Bird  was  on  the  point  of  starting 
when  the  fire  first  broke  out  and  had  developed  such 
extraordinary  speed  from  Bony's  team,  that  he  was  the 
first  to  appear  upon  the  scene.  But  others  soon  came, 
so  that  when  he  shouted  for  help  upon  discovering  the 
man  crawling  through  the  smoke  from  a  rear  door  of 
the  barn,  several  ran  up  to  assist  in  carrying  him 
away. 

"W'y,  I'll  be  gol  derned  'f  taint  Mose,  I  tho't  he 
wuz  — "  but  whatever  he  thought,  he  stopped  in  time 


1 84  FARMER  BIBBINS 

i 

to  prevent  any  untimely  disclosure,  for  among  those 
who  had  arrived  and  helped  carry  the  peddler  from 
the  area  of  danger  was  Farmer  Bibbins  and  his  young- 
est farmhand,  Charley. 

."Wai,  Mose,  ye're  alright  now,  but  what  in  blazes 
wuz  ye  doin'  in  'at  air  barn?  An'  whar's  yer  team  an' 
waggin?"  Bert  inquired  of  the  peddler  when  they 
stood  alone  with  Lista,  who  was  still  holding  the  team 
near  the  forms  of  Bony  and  his  widow. 

"I  was  coming  from  Burrville  to  see  Mr.  Lowton, 
but  having  some  packages  for  the  Hills,  over  there," 
pointing  toward  a  distant  farmhouse  on  another  paral- 
lel cross-road,  "I  thought  best  to  deliver  them  before 
coming  here.  As  I  passed  the  woods  there  I  saw  the 
fire,  at  the  same  time  some  one  began  to  scream.  So  I 
tied  my  horses  to  a  tree,  leaving  The  Prophet  on  duty, 
and  ran  through  the  grove  thinking  I  might  be  of  as- 
sistance to  the  one  I  heard  screaming.  You  can  see  that 
the  house  is  not  visible  from  that  direction  because  of 
the  other  buildings  and  believing  that  the  fire  was  con- 
fined to  the  barns  I  supposed  the  person  in  distress  was 
somewhere  inside,  probably  in  the  horse  barn  for  the 
other  stock  is  in  the  fields.  I  tried  to  enter,  but  be- 
cause of  my  haste  and  a  weakness  that  I  have  been 
unable  to  overcome  since  I  was — injured,  I  must  have 
fallen  in  the  smoke  by  the  barn.  I  did  not  lose  con- 
sciousness but  was  too  weak  to  stand,  and  so  called  for 
help.  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Simmons  and  gentlemen  for 
your  timely  aid.  I  should  feel  greatly  obliged  if  any 
of  you  can  tell  me  if  all  are  accounted  for,  for  I  am 
deeply  worried  about  the  one  I  heard  scream  so  fear- 
fully." 

Farmer  Bibbins  drew  the  peddler  aside,  explaining 
all  he  had  learned  from  Mrs.  Simmons,  which  account- 
ed for  the  younger  Lowton's  absence  and  the  cry  of 


RESULT  OF  THE  PASTORAL  CALL    185 

distress  which  was  doubtles  made  by  Mrs.  Lowton 
when  she  saw  her  helplessness  before  she  fainted.  He 
then  approached  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Simmons  who  were 
standing  by  the  team,  and  the  Lowtons,  covered  with 
blankets. 

"Bert  if  you  will  go  with  Mose,  who  ought  not  to 
leave  his  team  and  wagon  with  no  other  protection 
than  the  dog,  I  will  help  your  wife  remove  these  two 
people  to  my  house.  It's  already  close  to  chore  time. 
What  do  you  think?" 

"I  think  ye've  got  'nuff  fer  Missis  Bibbins  t'  look 
arter  now,  and  Lista  an'  me  kin  take  care  o'  this  poor 
'ooman,  an'  Bo— Mister  Lowton." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Bibbins,  don't  you  think  that  would  be 
best,"  asked  Lista. 

"Under  ordinary  circumstances  I  would,  Mrs.  Sim- 
mons, yes,  but  as  things  are,  I  believe  my  plan  is  the 
better  one.  You  see  we  have  a  girl  and  plenty  of  help. 
Besides  Frances  would  be  more  than  pleased  to  have 
your  assistance.  Then  too,  you  would  be  left  alone  for 
your  husband  and  I  have  an  important  engagement  for 
tonight,  doubtless  he  has  explained  it  to  you,  and  we 
may  be  away  very  late." 

Lista  looked  at  her  husband. 

"I'll  be  gol  derned  'f  I  hadn't  gon'  an'  disremember- 
ed  the  hulldern  bizness,  but  I'll  'splain  'bout 't  t'  Lista. 
I  guess  ye'd  better  do  ez  Farmer  Bibins  sez.  Ye'll 
unnerstan'  later  when  I  tell  ye." 

"Then  let's  hurry,  Mr.  Bibbins.  But  won't  your 
wife  be  surprised?  It  beats  me  how  much  trouble  you 
people  are  having  without  being  troubled  with  it." 

"Oh,  that's  nothing.  The  wife  and  I  are  getting 
used  to  it.  But  to  change  the  subject.  Do  you  suppose 
it  will  be  safe  to  remove  Mrs.  Lowton?  How  is  she 
now?"  he  asked,  turning  to  the  improvised  bed. 


186  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"I'm  better,  thank  ye.  Wat's  all  this  row  'bout  eny 
way?"  said  a  voice  and  at  the  same  time  Mrs.  Lowton 
raised  herself  to  a  sitting  posture.  "Whar's  the  ole 
man?"  Then  as  her  eyes  took  in  the  mass  of  burning 
buildings  she  glanced  down,  for  the  heat  was  quite  un- 
bearable to  one  first  exposed  to  its  rays,  and  saw  her 
partner. 

"God-a-mighty,"  she  screeched,  "Bony's  a  goner," 
and  relapsed  into  the  "comet"  state,  as  The  Bird  had 
expressed  it,  from  which  she  never  fully  emerged;  for 
like  a  true  fellow  of  the  heavenly  nomad  before  men- 
tioned, her  mind  wandered  through  the  remaining  years 
of  her  life  without  voice  or  language  to  tell  of  its  celes- 
tial visions. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  PEDDLER  MAKES  A  SPEECH 

REFERRING  again  to  the  time  honored  ad- 
age of  the  ill  wind,  it  may  be  wise  to  mention 
a  fact  concerning  it  which  is  too  frequently 
overlooked.     The  fact  with  reference  to  this 
story  of  Madran's  foremost  farmer  however  is  one  al- 
most entirely  subject  to  the  point  of  view.     The  ill- 
favor  of  this  particular  wind — gale  or  cyclone  perhaps 
would  JDC    more    appropriate— with   reference   to   the 
surviving  members  of  the  family  of  Lowton  was  of 
apparently  gigantic  proportions  for  it  not  only  swept 
the  landscape  on  the  Lowton  farm  of  every  vestige  of 
property  save  the  stock,  but  it  swept  the  stock  and 
farm  from  every  member  of  the  Lowton  family,  and  as 
the  irony  of  fate  would  finally  have  it,  dropped  it  into 
the  possession  of  Farmer  Bibbins. 

Likewise  the  good  it  blew  was  of  equal  magnitude. 
For  not  only  did  it  clear  the  community  of  a  source  and 
center  of  great  annoyance  and  ill-will,  but  in  the  "com- 
bustiflagration"  of  the  buildings,  (ever  an  unkempt 
unsightly  mass  of  ruins,)  was  also  burned  the  last 
vestige  of  opposition  to  the  plans  of  Farmer  Bibbins. 
Best  of  all  was  the  mental  respite  it  furnished  Wood 
and  his  wife  from  their  personal  troubles.  The  strain 
had  been  great,  for  weeks,  owing  to  Wood's  anxiety 
concerning  the  factory  and  the  worry  of  Frances  be- 
cause of  her  loving  sympathy  with  the  man  who  was 
her  all.  It  had  wrought  them  to  a  high  pitch  of  nerves 
as  witnessed  by  the  farmer's  tears  when  the  doctor 
left  them  sobbing  in  each  other's  arms.  So  much  had 

187 


1 88  FARMER  BIBBINS 

happened  in  these  two  or  three  days  to  interest  them 
that  neither  had  found  time  for  things  personal.  It 
was  well.  For,  while  no  other  two  in  that  community 
would  so  little  wish  to  reap  the  good  from  a  wind  so  ill 
intentioned  toward  their  neighbors,  or  protest  more 
strongly  against  the  wind  itself,  still  others  knew  that 
no  other  pair  deserved  so  much  the  spoils  of  those  bat- 
tling currents  as  did  Farmer  Bibbins  and  his  wife. 

It  was  at  the  moment  when  Wood  and  Mrs.  Sim- 
mons were  about  to  depart  with  all  that  remained  of 
the  elder  Lowtons,  that  the  Jew  approaching  the  wagon 
placed  his  hand  on  the  identical  wheel-rim—graced  at 
an  earlier  hour  of  the  day  by  the  hand  of  Mr.  Coffee, 
and  not  a  hundred  feet  from  the  spot  the  Elder's  feet 
had  disgraced  by  running  away  from  it— said: 

"Farmer  Bippins,  I  am  delegated  by  your  neighbors 
here  asembled,"  pointing  to  the  crowd  of  men  and 
women  quietly  drawing  near,  "to  speak  of  a  matter 
that  will,  we  are  sure,  bring  great  gladness  to  your 
own  and  your  beautiful  wife's  hearts.  But  I  do  not 
wish,"  pausing  to  look  around  the  circle  of  people  in 
search  of  a  face  he  missed,  which  at  that  moment  was 
concealed  by  a  somewhat  distant  tree,  "to  speak  with- 
out just  praise  to  one  I  thought  was  here,  nor  in  any 
spirit  of  bitterness  towards  others  who  are  not.  Some 
weeks  ago  the  one  I  especially  refer  to—"  glancing  at 
the  face  of  Lista  who  was  beginning  to  understand— 
"discovered  a  slight  error  in  your  usually  careful  judg- 
ment regarding  certain  contracts  with  your  friends, 
which  by  a  perfectly  legitimate  means  he  attempted  to 
bring  to  your  attention  in  time  to  save  you  from  anx- 
iety and  possible  financial  disaster.  That  his  attempt 
miscarried  is  due  to  the  fault  of  no  living  man  and 
therefore  none  is  blameworthy.  Circumstances  arose, 
with  which  you  are  doubtless  more  familiar  than  I, 


THE  PEDDLER  MAKES  A  SPEECH    189 

that  seemed  beyond  your  control,  and  it  was  only  by 
sacrificing  all  you  had  on  earth,  save  your  two  most 
priceless  treasures— your  honor  and  your  wife— that 
you  could  meet  defeat  with  victory.  But  your  wife 
whose  feet  are  always  beautiful  upon  the  mountain  in 
bringing  peace  and  comfort  to  the  afflicted,  which  I— 
I'd  know  frob  eggeperience  (He  was  struggling  to  con- 
trol his  voice  which  nearly  broke  in  referring  to  his 
care  from  Mrs.  Bibbins)  umusd  suffer  with  you,  and 
that  was  the  greatest  of  your  drials." 

He  stopped  a  moment  then  having  regained  com- 
mand of  himself  continued;  "In  the  words  of  the  great- 
est of  your  Presidents,  I  say  for  you  to  your  friends 
here,  with  malice  toward  none  and  charity  towards  all, 
you  have  won,  Farmer  Bippins— your  troubles  so  far 
as  these  difficulties  are  concerned  are  at  end." 

"These  things  your  friends  and  neighbors  have  au- 
thorized me  to  say;  go  on  with  your  factory,  and  if 
through  any  untoward  circumstances  you  are  hindered, 
they  will  do  what  they  can  with  their  milk  until  you  are 
ready  to  receive  it.  The  mill  is  running  this  minute,  I 
am  sure,  preparing  your  lumber,  so  that  you  need  delay 
/our  plans  no  longer.  Before  concluding  I  will  add 
that  this  extraordinary  misfortune  to  the  former  own- 
er of  this  farm  has  interfered  with  the  other  plans  of 
your  friends  who  hoped  to  call  on  you  tomorrow  with 
this  report.  It  is  with  no  disrespect  to  the  dead,  or  the 
living,  that  they  have  taken  advantage  of  being  togeth- 
er here,  brought  by  another  though  kindred  motive  of 
good  will— to  save  the  property  of  one  who  no  longer 
needs  it— that  they  are  doing  today  what  they  had 
planned  to  do  tomorrow.  Lastly,  Farmer  Bippins,  for 
the  knowledge  of  yourself  and  neighbors  who  do  not 
know  all  let  me  say  that  the  one  to  whom  the  credit  of 
this  I  have  said  to  you  is  due,  is  Mr.  Bert  Simmons, 


i9o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

whose  own  slight  error  in  judgment  he  believes  to  be 
the  cause  of  the  anxious  days  you  and  your  wife  have 
spent.  His  later  efforts,  we  all  hope  will  complete  that 
happiness  belonging  to  you  and  yours.  We  do  not 
want  you  to  reply  now,  for  reasons  you  will  under- 
stand," glancing  at  the  two  forms  in  the  wagon  cov- 
ered with  blankets. 

"But  we  ask  you  to  go  home  and  convey  to  your 
splendid  wife  our  deepest  love  and  devotion."  Before 
Farmer  Bibbins  could  utter  one  word,  the  peddler 
raised  his  hand— as  a  signal  to  a  man  standing  directly 
opposite  by  the  other  front  wheel— and  the  two  si- 
multaneously struck  the  horses  with  their  open  palms, 
which  sent  them  speeding  on  their  way. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

WHERE  THREE  HEADS  ARE  BETTER  THAN  ONE 

WELL,  Doc,  I've  been  trying  to  make  out 
what  you  are  going  to  do  when  things 
cease  happening  in  this  neighborhood," 
said  Farmer  Bibbins  some  hours  later, 
when  he  with  Dr.  Gilbert  and  Mr.  Bertrand  Simmons 
were  comfortably  seated  by  the  kitchen  hearth  smok- 
ing some  of  the  Doctor's  favorite  cigars. 

"You  might  buy  the  Lowton  farm  for  me  to  work 
on  shares,"  he  replied  but  immediately  became  serious. 
"The  boys  will  find  it  impossible  to  rebuild,  and  I  know 
the  land  is  mortgaged  for  all  it  will  stand.  They  may 
save  something  from  the  stock,  but  I  think  not.  B- 
Mr.  Lowton  was  deeply  in  debt,  besides  the  mortgage. 
By  the  way  I  wonder  where  the  boys  are  and  what  they 
are  doing.  They  ought  to  have  come  with  Charley  be- 
fore this.  How  they  will  manage  the  milking  tonight 
puzzles  me,"  deeply  thoughtful. 

"I  might  have  offered  the  use  of  my  stable  for  their 
milking.  They  could  have  driven  the  cows  over  and 
turned  them  into  the  lower  pasture  for  the  night, 
though  it's  pretty  cold  for  stock  used  to  a  stable.  I'm 
sorry  it  never  occurred  to  me,"  Wood  spoke  up. 

"I  don'  bleve  'f  they  ain't  milked  nun  tonight,  an' 
they  hev  t'  stay  out  o'  doors,  'twill  be  the  furst  time; 
'sides  the  boys  ain't  t'  hum  nun  yet.  I'll  bet  they're 
hevin'  a  high  ole  time  t'  Riverton.  But  'bout  the  cows, 
Bony  wan't  gittin'  more'n  a  can  full  from  the  hull  gol 
dern  lot,"  spoke  up  Bert.  "Ye  needn't  worry  nun  'bout 
them,  Farmer  Bibbins,  cos  ye  kin  sen'  word  in  the  morn- 

191 


192  FARMER  BIBBINS 

in'  'f  ye  wanner  do  ez  ye  say.  Mebbe  the  boys  '11  be 
t'  hum  by  then." 

"A  good  idea,  Bert,  I  will  send  them  word  first  thing 
in  the  morning." 

"Ye  needn'  do  'at  nun  neether,  cos  I'll  drop  in  on 
my  way  hum  an'  'f  they're  back  yit,  I'll  tell  'em.  I 
wuz  a  callatin'  t'  enyway,"  rather  sheepishly  and  con- 
tinuing apologetically;  "Cos  ye  see  they  ain't  got  nary 
place  t'  sleep  nun  themselves  when  they  do  come." 

Farmer  Bibbins  caught  the  eye  of  Doctor  Gilbert 
his  face  alight  with  admiration  for  the  big,  rough 
hewn  nobleman  who  was  endeavoring  to  conceal  his 
embarrassment  at  having  disclosed  his  kind  intentions 
by  lighting  a  cigar  already  aglow  with  recent  effort. 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  It  was  not  until 
Mr.  Simmons  was  on  the  point  of  utterly  destroying  his 
cigar  with  a  brand  from  the  open  fire  that  the  doctor 
broke  the  tension  by  saying: 

"Gentlemen,  as  you  know  I  was  sent  for  to  see  Mrs. 
Lowton  earlier  than  I  expected  to  come  if  I  decided 
to  come  here  at  all  instead  of  waiting  for  you  to  come 
to  me.  The  unlocked  for  change  in  the  hour  necessi- 
tates my  leaving  at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  for  I 
must  see  a  couple  of  my  patients  tonight  without  fail. 
So  I  am  going  to  ask  you,  Mr.  Simmons,  to  tell  Mr. 
Bibbins  all  you  told  me  this  morning  if  you  will  kindly 
do  so." 

The  story  was  repeated  without  material  change  and 
in  spite  of  all  that  had  occurred  and  the  present  con- 
dition of  the  Bibbins  household,  the  two  were  fre- 
quently smiling  and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  laughter 
punctuated  The  Bird's  characteristic  recital.  At  its  con- 
clusion, Dr.  Gilbert  said;  "Now  for  the  missing  half 
of  the  tale  I  promised  to  unfold  to  you."  Though 
more  voluminous  in  matter,  he  made  it  as  brief  as  pos- 


THREE  HEADS  BETTER  THAN  ONE  193 

sible  in  its  recounting,  owing  to  his  desire  to  be  off  to 
his  patients.  But  he  repeated  all  which  had  passed  be- 
tween the  Elder  and  himself  in  his  office  and  the  El- 
der's horse-barn,  together  with  his  own  deductions 
(all  save  one)  occasionally  interrupted  by  audible 
chuckles  from  Mr.  Simmons  whose  mind  continually 
recalled  the  "experiment"  with  which  Dr.  Gilbert  wel- 
comed his  guest  on  the  evening  of  the  Elder's  call. 

"By  gosh,  Doc,  'f  ye  ain't  wastin'  time  scatterin' 
pills  'round  this  na'br'ood,  ye  orter  git  int'  the  'tective 
bizness  long  o'  'at  feller  'at  Lista  reads  ''bout,"  he  con- 
cluded. Catching  the  doctor's  eye,  he  winked,  exer- 
cising so  many  facial  muscles  in  his  effort  that  the  doc- 
tor was  quite  as  disconcerted  by  the  grotesque  result 
on  Bert's  face,  as  was  the  latter  by  the  cause  of  it.  Be- 
fore either  had  resumed  a  normal  condition  of  mind, 
Farmer  Bibbins,  unaware  of  the  facial  byplay,  spoke;  — 

"Doc,  in  view  of  Bert's  service  with  reference  to  my 
own  affairs,  and  the  timely  recognition  of  the  import- 
ance of  the  Elder's  conduct  on  the  hill,  I  should  prefer 
to  give  him  such  other  facts  as  I  can,  if  you  have  no 
objections.  Do  you  mind?" 

"Good.  I  am  delighted  and  was  actually  praying 
that  you  would  decide  to  do  so." 

"There  are  some  things,  Bert,  which  neither  the 
Doctor  nor  you  know  just  yet,  though  in  a  sense  they 
are  not  material.  But  all  that  he  knows  you  shall  and 
a  few  extras  which  I  am  permitted  by  the  injured  boy 
to  impart  to  whomsoever  I  think  best,  which  you  both 
will  hear  for  the  first  time.  I  rather  think  you  have 
been  guessing  pretty  closely  however,  since  you  have 
heard  each  other's  stories.  Doc,  you  already  know 
most  of  it,  and  as  you  are  anxious  to  go,  I  will  explain 
to  Bert,  the  part  he  don't  know,  first.  Bert,  the  'tramp' 
who  has  entered  so  largely  into  the  affairs  of  this  neigh- 


194  FARMER  BIBBINS 

borhood,  and  in  whom  the  Doc  for  one  reason  and  the 
Elder  for  another  are  so  much  interested,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  rest  of  us  and  our  reasons  for  interest,  is  my 
wife's  nepheAv."  Bert  sat  up  and  looked  at  the  speak- 
er, but  spoke  not. 

"He  is  a  Westerner  whose  parents  are  dead.  For 
some  years  he  has  been  a  student  at  Cornell,  pursuing 
a  course  of  study  with  the  idea  of  becoming  an  instruc- 
tor in  the  State  College  of  Agriculture.  He  was  poor, 
having  spent  all  he  ever  possessed  on  his  education, 
but  was  never  a  tramp.  In  order  to  earn  a  little  money 
now  and  then  to  pursue  his  work  and  at  the  same  time 
get  at  the  true  status  of  farm  life  and  labor  he  oc- 
casionally worked  for  the  State  assumed  the  role  of 
tramp,  which  would  account  for  his  coming  and  going 
unsuspected  by  the  farmers  whose  methods  and  efforts 
he  was  investigating.  Early  in  the  day  on  which  he 
called  at  Bony's,  he  was  coming  from  Whitestown 
where  a  name  having  been  mentioned  in  his  hearing 
set  him  thinking.  He  believed  it  referred  to  his  moth- 
er's relatives  of  whom  he  knew  scarcely  anything  ex- 
cept the  name  and  her  native  state.  His  inquiries 
brought  him  here  and  only  for  what  occurred  later 
in  the  day  when  he  was  resting  from  his  long  walk  on 
the  hay  in  my  barn,  he  would  doubtless  have  been  with 
me  ever  since." 

He  took  a  few  puffs  from  his  cigar  and  proceeded. 

"What  happened  out  there  that  afternoon  has  been 
known  to  the  boy  all  along,  and  to  me  since  last  even- 
ing, though  he  does  not  want  it  repeated  yet.  I  know 
that  he  did  not  visit  the  Lowtons  for  his  dinner  but 
merely  to  inquire  the  shortest  route  to  my  house.  And 
it  was  probably  his  mention  of  my  name  which  aroused 
Bony  who  ordered  him  into  the  road,  as  the  Elder 
truthfully  informed  the  Doctor.  From  what  little  I 
have  seen  of  the  young  man  I  am  convinced  that  the 


THREE  HEADS  BETTER  THAN  ONE  195 

Elder  lied  about  his  cursing  Mr.  Lowton,  though  he 
admits  shaking  his  fist  at  him  in  return  for  a  like  com- 
pliment. What  occurred  in  my  barn  later  decided  him 
to  assume  a  name  not  his  own  and  to  change  his  plans 
so  that  in  case  of  trouble  for  anyone  he  would  be  on 
hand.  He  found  work  with  Mr.  Kendall,  and  as  he 
needed  the  money,  continued  with  Mr.  Kendall  until 
we  brought  him  here  after  his  accident.  Because  of 
our  reticence,  which  Mose  repeatedly  requested  of 
every  one,  he  had  begun  to  think  the  incident  closed 
for  it  was  dropped  as  a  subject  of  talk  in  the  com- 
munity." 

He  puffed  away  at  his  cigar  for  a  time,  then  facing 
the  doctor,  continued: 

"Doc,  this  will  especially  interest  you.  His  leg  was 
broken,  as  you  have  suggested,  by  a  fall.  And  the  fall 
was  caused  by  the  Elder,  whose  cobweb-covered  hat 
noticed  by  Mr.  Simmons,  completes  that  particular 
chain  of  evidence  against  the  reverend  gentleman  as 
an  accessory,  at  least.  Early  in  the  day  of  the  accident 
to  him  Ward  was  in  the  barn,  and  saw  Mr.  Coffee,  in 
a  somewhat  suspicious  manner,  for  a  man  of  his  profes- 
sion, entering  the  barn  by  a  side  door  and  looking 
carefully  about  (though  he  failed  to  see  Ward  who 
kept  out  of  sight.)  He  quickly  ascended  a  ladder  to 
the  haymow  and  then  to  a  scaffolding  of  old  boards 
laid  on  the  purlines.  Ward  was  amazed  at  the  act, 
and  still  more  so  when  an  iron  bar  dropped  to  the  barn 
floor  not  far  from  his  own  feet,  which  he  instantly 
recognized  for  he  had  seen  it  in  my  barn  some  weeks 
before." 

He  gave  a  quick  glance  at  Dr.  Gilbert  who  nodded 
in  assent,  quite  unnoticed  by  Bert,  that  gentleman  be- 
ing stretched  comfortably  out  in  an  oldfashioned  B™- 
ton  rocker.  Farmer  Bibbins  resumed:— 


196  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"At  first  the  lad  thought  of  taking  possession  of  it, 
then  as  quickly  deciding  that  the  Elder  was  ignorant  ofr 
his  presence  and  was  either  trying  to  conceal  it  in  the 
barn  loft,  or  else  had  gone  up  there  for  it,  and  that  he 
himself  would  await  further  developments,  knowing 
that  he  could  secure  it  now  anyway.  It  wasn't  any  time 
before  the  climber  was  down,  a  little  winded  by  his 
exertions,  and  after  carefully  doing  something  with  the 
rod  in  the  light  of  a  rear  window  he  re-ascended  to  the 
scaffold.  Ward  could  not  see  him  from  his  own  hiding- 
place  though  he  could  hear  him  replacing  the  boards, 
as  he  supposed.  However  the  Shepherd  was  soon 
back,  and  after  hastily  inspecting  the  barn  for  evidence 
of  an  observer,  started  for  the  house." 

"Ward  at  once  decided  to  secure  possession  of  the 
iron  bar.  He  ran  up  the  ladder  and  was  soon  crawling 
out  on  the  boards,  having  discovered  the  rod  on  the 
other  side  of  the  scaffolding,  when  the  whole  thing 
gave  way  and  he  dropped  to  the  floor." 

Instantly  The  Bird  was  on  his  feet. 

"W'y,  go— go— gol  dern  it,  w'at  go — dod  gamit  ole 
— ole,  'scuse  me  Mister  Bibbins,  but  I  wuz  jes'  tryin' 
fer  t'  say  'at  air  ole — say  Doc  whatinell  do  I  mean  t' 
say  enny  way?" 

Excited  beyond  all  effort  to  express  his  thought,  he 
dropped  back  into  his  chair. 

"Never  mind,  Bert,"  for  both  he  and  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  were  laughing  despite  their  efforts  at  restraint. 
"I  know  what  you  mean." 

"Wai,  w'at  d'ye  say  t'  w'at  I  mean?"  in  great  heat. 

"Amen,  Bert,  with  all  my  heart,"  at  which  timely 
though  quite  unexpected  confirmation  of  his  profane 
thought,  The  Bird  relaxed  with  the  others. 

"Your  idea  is  right,  Bert;  that  scoundrelly  parson 
arranged  those  boards  so  that  anyone  who  attempted 


THREE  HEADS  BETTER  THAN  ONE  197 

to  cross  to  the  bar  would  fall.  But  what  do  you  sup- 
pose he  was  doing  to  the  bar,  Doc?" 

"Fixing  the  hairs  securely  under  the  flakes  of  rust 
and  dried  blood,  for  doubtless  the  fall  had  loosened 
them.  I  saw  at  once  when  the  bar  came  into  my  pos- 
session that  most  of  them  had  been  replaced  with  great 
care,  for  very  few  of  them  were  matted  together  in 
the  blood-rusted  clot.  He  must  have  secured  the  bar 
again  after  Ward  fell."  Then  rising  to  go,  "If  you 
will  bring  Bonny,  Wood,  I  will  have  a  look  at  my  new 
patient,  say  good  night  to  your  wife  and  nephew  and 
Mrs.  Simmons,  and  be  off." 

"Wai,  Mister  Bibbins,  I  kinder  think  Lista  'n  me 
better  be  goin'  hum  too,  instid  o'  stayin'  yere  keepin' 
ye  all  up  now  Doc  Gilbert's  gone.  Say,  ain't  he  a  won- 
ner?"  seating  himself  again  at  the  solicitation  of  Farm- 
er Bibbins. 

"Wait  till  I  find  some  pipes  and  tobacco,  Bert.  The 
Doc's  cigars  are  all  right  but  I  prefer  the  cob  after  all." 

Thereupon  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  both  smok- 
ing again,  each  in  a  favorable  attitude  of  rest.  Farm- 
er Bibbins  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Bert,  I  haven't  expressed  the  gratitude  I  feel  for 
the  splendid  service  you  have  rendered,  to  both  my 
wife  and  me,  nor  can  I  do  it  in  words  but  I  hope  the 
time  will  come  when  I  can,  only  I  want  it  to  come  in 
connection  with  your  happiness  and  prosperity  not  when 
you  are  down  or  troubled." 

"D'ye  wanner  do  me  a  favor,  Farmer  Bibbins?" 

"Yes,  I  would  do  you  many  if  I  knew  how." 

"Then  don'  ye  ever  say  'nother  gol  dern  word  'bout 
't.  'Twas  all  my  own  fool  jokin'  'at  brung  't  'bout  'n 
the  fust  place." 

"No,  Bert,  you  are  wholly  mistaken  in  that.  But 
I'll  say  no  more  at  present.  Now  tell  me  all  about 


198  FARMER  BIBBINS 

this  lawyer  and  Mose,  I — " 

ujes'  ye  lis'en,  I  ain't  goin'  t'  tell  ye  nuthin',  I  prom- 
ised Mose  I'd  say  nuthin'.  Let's  talk  'bout  suthin' 
else." 

"All  right,  what  shall  it  be?" 

"Wai,  Doc  Gilbert,  an'  the  Elder,  an'  Bony  jest  a 
leetle.  I'm  kinder  mixed  tup  'bout  suthin'  an'  tho't 
mebbe  ye  cud  put  me  straight.  Now,  'f  taint  nun  o' 
my  bizness,  I'd  like  fer  t'  ast  ye  what  'n  blazes  the 
Elder's  gotter  do  'ith  yer  neffy  enyway?  Whar's  he 
cum  in?" 

"He  and  Matt  have  been  working  together  to  throw 
the  burden  of  Mose's  injury  upon  my  nephew  in  there." 
"W'y,  gol  dern  'em,  w'y  sud  they  try  fer  t'  do  'at 
when  the  Elder  done  't  his  self?" 

"What?"  Farmer  Bibbins  was  startled  and  sprang 
to  his  feet.  "What  makes  you  say  that,  Bert?"  He 
was  greatly  surprised,  which  did  not  surprise  Mr.  Sim- 
mons for  he  recognized  the  position  of  his  friend  whom 
he  knew  was  deeply  worried  because  of  it. 

"Thar,  thar,  Farmer  Bibbins,  I  guess  I  did  startle 
ye  sum.  Fac'  is  I  sorter  sprised  myself.  But  don'  go 
fer  t'  singin'  ary  'Song  o'  the  South,'  jes'  yit,"  he  re- 
plied, smiling  placidly.  The  sally  brought  a  calmer 
mood  to  Wood. 

"I  guessed  it  sum  leetle  time  ago,  'bout  an  hour  1 
guess.  But  I  didn't  wanner  say  't  'fore  the  Doc,  cos 
I  didn't  know  jes'  how  much  he  'spected  hisself.  But 
I  tho't  I'd  orter  let  ye  know  what  I  thought  arter  he'd 
gone  cos  I  kin  give  ye  good  advice  fer  oncet.  So  ye'll 
scuse  me,  Mister  Bibbins,  fer  not  doin'  on't  'n  the  right 
way." 

"Bert,  I  beg  your  pardon.  You  did  surprise  me 
tremendously — but  I  can't  understand  your  conclu- 
sions." 


THREE  HEADS  BETTER  THAN  ONE  199 

"Taint  nun  'sprisin'  yer  ain'  able  t',"  Bert  broke 
in.  "Ye've  ben  threw  'nuff  t'  upset  enybody,  t'  say 
nuthin'  o'  this  happenating  t'day,  an'  what  ye've  got 
in  the  house  now." 

"Very  well,  my  friend,  but  tell  me;  how  do  you 
know?  I  cannot  admit  any  more,  though  my  sus- 
picions are  close  kin  to  yours." 

"Taint  necessary.  How'd  I  know?  Wai  I  know'd 
't  fer  'bout  the  same  reason  fish  swim,  Farmer  Bibbins." 

"Why  is  that?"  laughing. 

"Cos,  they  can'  he'p  't  nun,  'f  they  git  enywhar's 
they's  wan'in'  t'  go.  Ye  see,  I  seen  by  what  ye  didn' 
say,  an'  by  what  the  Doc  didn'  say  'at  ye  both  knowed 
suthin',  and  wuz  fitin'  shy  on't,  an'  'nen  coz  ye  bring 
the  boy  from  Kendall's  ez  ye  did,  and  skippin'  the 
scenary  in  the  barn  'fore  he  went  thar,  w'y  I  jes'  put 
this  an'  tother  t'gether  like  an'  hed  yer  neffy,  who  kind- 
er thinks  he  dun  't,  and  yet  who  din't  arter  all,  but 
dassent  say  a  word.  Say  them  gol  dern  scalywags 
don't  dast  t'  say  a  word,  nor  nothin'  neether  'f  Matt 
was  yere  instid  o'— whar'  he  is." 

Farmer  Bibbins  looked  up;  "Where  is  he,  Bert?" 

"Dunno,  but  I  gotter  be  goin'.  I'll  git  along  'f  ye'll 
jes'  call  Lista." 

"But  Bert,  I  haven't  yet  told  you  all  I  promised  to 
before  Doctor  Gilbert  left  us.  You  know  what  I  re- 
peated was  for  his  benefit  as  well  as  yours.  There  is 
much  to  say  that  he  already  knew." 

"I'd  like  fer  t'  stay  'ith  ye,  Farmer  Bibbins,  cos  ye 
an'  I  air  gittin'  'quainted  like,  but  I  gotter  go  cos  I 
jes'  tho't  o'  suthin'  I  gotter  do  t'night,  suthin'  I'd  clean 
fergot.  Tell  Lista  I'm  arter  the  hosses,"  leaving  ab- 
ruptly, and  in  great  perturbation  of  mind. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

WHICH  CONCERNS  DR.  GILBERT 

DO  you  ever  sleep,  Doc?"    Farmer  Bibbins 
asked  the  next  morning  at  seven  when  the 
Doctor  drove  up. 
"Sometimes." 

"When?" 

"Whenever  I  can.  In  the  carriage  much  of  the  time. 
I  had  a  splendid  nap  last  night,"  laughing  at  some 
remembrance,  "driving  over  to  Newman's." 

"Over  to  Newman's?"  in  astonishment,  "you  don't 
mean  that  you  went  there  after  leaving  here?" 

"Certainly,  and  what's  more  I  came  here  after  leav- 
ing there.  I  also  stopped  long  enough  at  Madran  to 
have  breakfast,  change  mares,  and  make  some  in- 
quiries." 

"So  I  see,  all  but  the  breakfast  and  the  inquiries. 
But  how  do  you  stand  it?  How  dare  you  sleep  in  your 
buggy  with  the  roads  in  their  present  condition?  I 
wouldn't;  I'd  be  in  the  ditch  or  kingdom  come,  unless 
the  Elder  preached  my  funeral  sermon,  then  I'd  be 
elsewhere  I  suppose,"  laughing. 

"If  you  had  a  decent  horse  with  horse  sense,  which 
you  haven't,  you  could;  and  keep  out  of  the  ditch  and 
the  other  place  too,  in  spite  of  the  man  of  sacred  call- 
ing. But  speaking  of  him,  I  am  not  ready  for  my 
final  'experiment'  with  that  shepherd.  I  was  expect- 
ing to  test  it  last  night  as  you  know,  until  my  plans  were 
upset  by  the  illness  of  Mrs.  Lcwton.  Now  from  what 
my  man  tells  me  (he  has  had  an  eye  on  him  at  the 
house  where  he  spent  the  night,)  I  am  of  the 

200 


WHICH  CONCERNS  DR.  GILBERT    201 

opinion  that  Mr.  Coffee  does  not  realize,  or  more 
than  suspect,  what  is  coming  to  him;  perhaps  not 
that.  That  being  the  case  would  it  not  be  the  wise 
thing  to  leave  matters  as  they  are  until  after  the  fun- 
eral? When  alive,  Mr.  Lowton  never  objected  to  him, 
and  now  that  he  is  dead  such  objection  is  impossible. 
Nor  would  he,  I  think  if  he  could.  Then  too  for  many 
reasons,  not  the  least  of  which  is  my  desire  to  save 
Mrs.  Coffee — a  thoroughly  good  woman— from  un- 
necessary trouble.  Besides,  the  youngest  Lowton  boys 
will  doubtless  want  to  see  him  and  have  him  conduct 
the  funeral.  What  do  you  think?" 

"As  you  do,  certainly." 

"Very  good.  Of  course  in  a  way  it  is  none  of  our 
business  what  the  Elder  is  or  what  he  does,  save  as 
the  welfare  of  our  friends  who  have  been  misled  by 
him  too  long  is  our  business.  In  another  way  it  is  your 
business  to  get  rid  of  him  on  Ward's  account.  But 
to  change  the  subject,  have  you  seen  the  Lowton  boys?" 

"Yes,  they  are  in  my  barn  now,  milking  their  cows. 
Bert  saw  them  last  night  and  they  drove  their  cattle 
over  early  this  morning.  They  were  mighty  grateful 
too." 

"I'm  glad.  They  are  not  bad  boys  at  all,  not  as  bad 
as  one  might  expect,  considering.  Have  they  said  any- 
thing about  their  parents?" 

"Yes,  they  want  me  to  do  anything  I  think  best. 
Tell  me,  Doc,  what  ought  I  to  do?" 

"Could  your  wife  manage  for  a  few  days  until  after 
the  funeral?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so.  You  said  Mrs.  Lowton  would  be 
little  trouble  for  she  would  probably  never  speak  a 
word  again.  Frances'  nephew  is  that  gone  on  her  he 
won't  allow  any  extra  labor  on  his  account.  He's  a  fine 
young  man,  Doc,  if  this  other—" 


202  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Never  mind  that.  He's  a  fine  chap,  anyway,  and 
the  other  thing  will  work  out  all  right.  Knowing 
what  we  do  there's  nothing  whatever  to  annoy  you." 

Dr.  Gilbert  meditated  a  moment  and  continued:— 

"You  arrange  to  have  the  funeral  in  the  church  and 
notify  the  Elder  at  once — send  Charley  now  or  go 
yourself— that  will  ease  his  ministerial  mind,  and  pre- 
vent his  untimely  withdrawal  from  the  present  field  of 
his  labors.  Ugh !  such  a  workman.  It  is  really  too 
bad,  Farmer  Bibbins,  that  a  self-made  man  like  that 
should  have  finished  the  job  so  hurriedly,  isn't  it?"  smil- 
ing at  Wood.  "It's  just  possible  though  that  he  ran 
out  of  material,  for  which  we  may  be  duly  thankful. 
Anything  new?" 

"Nothing,  only  Bert.  Say,  Doc,  we  may  call  him 
The  Bird,  and  not  be  far  wrong,  but  the  man  who  for- 
gets the  difference  between  a  parrot  who  talks  and  the 
eagle  who  screams,  in  placing  Bert  Simmons  is  going 
to  find  himself  eating  crow?  How's  that?"  with  a 
laugh. 

"Fine,  you're  improving.  Another  week  of  excite- 
ment and  a  few  more  of  worry,  and  you  may  find  a 
brain  somewhere  about  you  yet.  How  are  my  pa- 
tients?" 

"Find  out!  I'm  going  to  call  on  Mr.  Coffee,"  and 
he  started  forthwith  for  the  barn,  leading  Bonny.  A 
moment  later  he  was  speaking  to  the  Lowton  boys  who 
were  milking;— 

"Boys,  would  you  prefer  to  have  your  father's  fun- 
eral services  in  the  church  at  Madran  and  have  Elder 
Coffee  conduct  it?  I  would  be  glad  to  offer  the  house 
but  owing  to  your  mother's  being  here  and  another 
sick  person  too,  that  is  impossible." 

"Whatever  you  do,  Mr.  Bibbins,  will  suit  us.  We 
have  nothing  but  what  you  see— our  clothes  and  the 


WHICH  CONCERNS  DR.  GILBERT    203 

cows,  and  they'l  have  to  be  sold  to  pay  the  ole  man's 
debts,"  replied  the  elder  of  them. 

"All  right,  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  for  you.  I've  al- 
ready explained  to  you  about  your  stock  and  its  care. 
Sorry  I  have  no  stable  room  but  you  are  welcome  to 
one  of  the  yards  and  whatever  fodder  they  need  for  the 
present.  If  the  snow  holds  off  a  few  more  days  we  can 
manage  it.  By  that  time  you  may  hear  from  Matt, 
or  have  a  lawyer  to  advise  you.  If  I  were  you  I  would 
go  to  Riverton  at  once,  today,  and  have  Judge  Scott 
appoint  a  guardian  for  you.  I  think  neither  of  you  is 
of  age.  Am  I  right?" 

"Yes,  I'm  twenty,  and  my  brother  is  seventeen. 
Matt's  twenty-six." 

"Judge  Scott  knows  the  doctor  well;  ask  to  have  him 
appointed  your  guardian,  unless  your  father  has  left  a 
will  and  names  one  as  well  as  an  executor  of  the  estate. 
However  get  Doc  appointed  if  you  need  one.  Under 
no  circumstances  mention  me,  I  could  not  and  would 
not  serve,"  noticing  the  mutual  appeal  in  their  faces. 

"Your  father  was  not  particularly  friendly  to  me, 
and  I  simply  could  not  do  it,"  he  concluded  in  explana- 
tion of  his  decision. 

"All  right,  Mr.  Bibbins,  we  will.  Can  Charley  go 
with  us?" 

"Charley  can  drive  you  over  and  do  some  errands 
for  the  wife  and  me.  It's  a  good  scheme.  I'll  tell 
him  before  going  to  Madran.  Goodbye,  boys,  don't 
worry  and  be  sure  and  have  Scott  appoint  Doc  Gil- 
bert." 

"Thank  you  Mr.  Bibbins,  you're  mighty  kind  to  us. 
We'll  try  an'  make  it  up  to  you  some  way,"  replied 
the  one  who  had  acted  as  spokesman. 

"That's  all  right  boys,  I'm  going  to  Madran  for  the 
undertaker,  I  sent  for  him  yesterday  but  he  was  away 


204  FARMER  BIBBINS 

and  I  must  hurry  him  along;  besides,  I  want  to  see  Mr. 
Coffee.     I  suppose  you  want  the  Elder?" 

"I  spose  so,  I  ain't  none  stuck  on  the  ole  cuss,  but 
the  ole  man  was,  so  he'll  do." 

Farmer  Bibbins  smiled  and  left  them. 

************* 

"Well  Mrs.  Bibbins  our  little  hospital  scheme  is 
getting  well  started  isn't  it?  It's  hardly  fair  to  turn 
your  home  into  a  morgue  at  the  same  time,"  said  the 
doctor  in  greeting  Frances.  "I  wish  I  knew  how  to 
reward  you,  however  I  will  speak  to  the  Elder  about 
that." 

"About  what?" 

"Your  reward  of  course." 

"I  thought  you  were  fonder  of  me  than  that,  Dr. 
Gilbert,"  assuming  a  hurt  tone. 

"Than  what?"  catching  the  tone  but  not  the  cause 
of  it. 

"Obtaining  my  reward  through  the  Elder.  I  was 
not  aware  that  any  one  but  Wood  wanted  to  get  rid  of 
me?"  mischievously. 

"But  Wood?  Get  rid  of  you?  Oh,  Good  Lord! 
What  an  ass  I  am.  I  beg  your  pardon  dear  Frances. 
I  was  not  thinking  of  Time,  nor  of  that  servitor  of  it. 
I  was  only  thinking  of  your  merit  and  the  pricelessness 
of  that.  Even  then  it  was  sacrilegious  when  connected 
with  him.  Will  you  forgive  me?"  holding  out  his 
hand  to  her. 

"This  time,  but  only  because  you  are  nothing  but  a 
boy.  If  you  were  grown  up  you  know,  it  would  be 
different,"  taking  his  hand  and  shaking  it  warmly. 
"You're  awfully  good,  Doctor,  to  take  so  much  trouble 
to  see  Ward  so  early.  I  already  love  him  like  a  son, 
though  I've  known  him  but  a  few  hours  at  that.  I  only 
hope  we  can — " 


WHICH  CONCERNS  DR.  GILBERT     205 

"Now,  now,  not  a  word.  Everything  is  coming  fine. 
How  is  he  this  morning?"  changing  the  subject. 

"Cheerful,  but  suffering  greatly,  I  know.  Do  you 
think  you  could  give  him  something  to  ease  him  a 
little?" 

"I  can  give  him  something  that  will  ease  you  a  lit- 
tle," he  replied  banteringly.  "I  wouldn't  for  his  sake. 
You  know  what  I  said  when  I  first  spoke  of  him  to 
you?  Well,  I  haven't  changed  my  opinion  of  him  in 
the  least." 

"You  still  wish  the  break  had  been  four  feet  high- 
er?" seriously,  eyes  wide  open  at  the  doctor's  em- 
phatic reference. 

He  looked  into  her  eyes;  "I  said  I  had  not  changed 
my  opinion,"  he  smiled,  and  then  entered  the  young 
man's  room. 

"Well  I  have  mine,"  she  retorted  happily,  and  fol- 
lowed him. 

"Hello,  old  man,  how's  the  leg?" 

"Painful,  Doctor.  If  that  old  duffer— excuse  me 
Mother— Aunt,"  (flushing  and  glancing  at  the  man 
whose  hand  was  upon  his  wrist  and  who  nodded  his 
satisfaction  at  the  young  man's  slip,  softly  murmuring 
"so  quickly  too") — "wasn't  a  preacher  I  could  almost 
wish  it  was  his  neck  instead  of  my  leg." 

"It's  just  because  he  is  a  preacher  that  I  harbor  the 
same  wish,"  Dr.  Gilbert  spoke  up  quickly.  "After  all 
though,  had  you  not  broken  your  leg  you  might  not 
have  found  this  new  'Mother-aunt,'  It's  a  new  re- 
lationship I  am  sure,  but  it  sounds  mighty  good  never- 
theless," laughingly  making  use  of  the  boy's  error. 

"Not  so  good  as  it  feels,  Doctor.  It  means  as  much 
to  me  as  it  can  to  Ward,"  Mrs.  Bibbins  said,  "But 
what  do  you  think  of  his  condition  this  morning?" 

"He's  doing  splendidly.     It's  only  a  matter  of  time; 


206  FARMER  BIBBINS 

not  so  long  a  time  either,  if  nothing  interferes  with  the 
wound." 

"What  wound?"  anxiously,  "I  did  not  know  of  a 
wound,  what  is  it?"  asked  Frances,  her  face  paling. 

"The  one  at  the  lower  break.  A  compound  frac- 
ture is  one  where  the  broken  bone  is  forced  through 
the  flesh.  The  danger  from  such  is  gangrene,  though 
that  is  not  fatally  serious  by  any  means.  There  is  no 
sign  of  it  here,"  after  examining  the  leg.  "You  will 
be  on  crutches  before  you  know  it  and  if  you  are  not," 
hesitating  and  glancing  at  Frances,  "I'll  be  on  them 
after  your  Aunt  does,  all  right." 

"By  the  way,  Ward,  do  you  mind  answering  me  one 
question?  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  that  other  affair, 
save  indirectly,"  quickly  noting  the  pathetic  appeal  in 
the  patient's  eyes. 

"Certainly,  Doctor  Gilbert,  as  many  as  you  please, 
if  I  can." 

"Why  then  did  you  remain  so  long  in  this  vicinity  be- 
fore making  known  your  identity  to  your  relatives 
here?  I  know  it's  none  of  my  business,  and  you  may 
say  so  plainly  if  you  wish  to." 

'"'That's  all  right,  Doctor;  in  the  first  place  I  was 
not  sure,  and  after  I  was,  I  was  afraid  I  should  di  — 
if  things  were  known  you  see." 

"I  understand.  Don't  say  any  more;  I  beg  your 
pardon  for  my  curiosity,  but  there  isn't  the  ghost  of  a 
reason  for  your  worrying." 

"You  think  not?" 

"I  know  it!"  Then,  "There,  your  Aunt  will  give 
you  one  of  these  every  five  hours,  to  ease  her  pain  a 
little,"  laughing  at  the  boy's  perplexity.  Frances  ex- 
plained his  meaning,  and  the  doctor  shaking  their 
hands,  departed. 

He  started  for  the  barn,  but  meeting  Charley  took 


WHICH  CONCERNS  DR.  GILBERT    207 

him  into  one  of  the  lesser  buildings. 

"Charles,  I  haven't  seen  you  of  late  to  thank  you 
for  your  assistance.  However,  I  do  now,  and  when 
you  are  ready,  I'll  show  you  how  much  I  appreciate 
your  efforts.  Have  you  learned  anything?" 

"Yes  sir,"  lowering  his  voice,  "I  have  found  the 
hiding  place,"  and  he  whispered  it  into  the  Doctor's 
ear. 

"No,  why  Good  Lord!  that  man  has  brains  enough 
to  make  something  of  himself  after  all." 

"It  wasn't  his  doings,  I  think,  but  Mose's." 

"Good  for  you,  Charles,  that's  all.  I  am  in  some 
haste  this  morning  but  would  like  to  speak  with  one  or 
both  of  the  Lowton  boys  before  leaving.  Could  I?" 

"Yes  sir,  they're  having  breakfast  in  the  kitchen. 
Go  right  in  and  speak  to  them.  It's  pretty  cold  out 
here  and  I've  got  to  hang  the  gate  between  the  yards 
so  they  can  put  their  cows  in  one  of  them.  I  was  go- 
ing for  the  tools  when  I  met  you." 

The  doctor  returned  to  the  kitchen.  "Maggie, 
would  you  mind  my  speaking  with  these  young  men 
alone  for  a  moment?  I  dislike  disturbing  you,  but 
it  is  a  family  matter.  Thank  you,"  as  she  withdrew. 

"Boys,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  though  sorry  that  the 
cause  of  our  present  meeting  is  what  it  is.  I  only  want- 
ed to  say  that  for  some  time  I  have  been  trying  to  ar- 
range a  settlement  with  your  father,  but  somehow  was 
never  able  to."  The  boys  glanced  at  each  other  in  anx- 
ious embarrassment. 

The  elder  of  the  two  finally  spoke : 

"I'm  sorry,  Doctor,  but  I  don't  believe  we  could 
settle  with  you  now.  You  see—" 

"Wait  a  moment,  please.  The  settlement  is  not  for 
you  that  belongs  to  me.  You  know  I  once  purchased  a 
colt  from  your  father  and  he  has  supplied  me  from 


208  FARMER  BIBBINS 

time  to  time  with  produce  for  my  house  and  stable. 
I  never  got  to  a  settlement  with  him.  I  was  making 
some  entries  this  morning  and  noticed  a  balance  of 
several  hundred  dollars,  about  three  hundred,  I  think. 
Now  I  am  going  to  leave  two  hundred  of  it  with  you 
for  immediate  use.  Your  affliction  will  necessitate  a 
little  ready  cash,  you  see,  and  having  lost  everything 
in  the  fire,  I  am  glad  for  you  that  the  settlement  was 
delayed." 

He  was  counting  out  the  money  while  speaking, 
more  to  prevent  their  questioning  him  than  anything 
else.  He  gave  them  no  time  to  recover  from  their 
astonishment  over  their  unexpected  good  fortune,  but 
went  on:  — 

"Now,  when  you  are  ready,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see 
you  at  my  office,  where  we  can  go  over  the  books  to- 
gether, if  you  care  to.  If  I  can  be  of  any  service  to 
you,  don't  hesitate  to  come.  I  will  look  after  your 
mother,  who  I  am  sorry  to  say  will  in  all  probability 
never  recover.  But  don't  take  these  things  too  hard, 
boys.  Your  parents  were  old,  and  at  the  best  could 
have  been  with  you  but  a  few  years  more.  I  must 
hurry  for  my  other  patients  will  think  I  have  forgotten 
them.  Good  by.  Just  let  Farmer  Bibbins  guide  you, 
and  whatever  he  advises,  do." 

He  went  out,  leaving  the  boys  in  tears.  But  whether 
the  tears  were  caused  by  the  loss  of  their  parents  or  by 
the  doctor's  kindness,  neither  of  them  could  tell. 

"Bonny  girl,  I  am  either  becoming  a  worse  hyprocite 
than  our  esteemed  friend  or  have  always  been  one  with- 
out discovering  it  until  now.  Lord,  what  a  liar  I  am," 
which  last  statement  seemed  to  please  him  immensely, 
for  when  a  few  moments  later  he  drove  into  Mr.  Ken- 
dall's yard,  he  was  still  laughing. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Kendall,  I  suppose  you  are 


WHICH  CONCERNS  DR.  GILBERT     209 

angry  with  me  and  your  neighbors  over  there  because 
of  our  theft.  You  won't  be  after  a  few  days,  if  you 
continue  to  be  after  I  whisper  in  your  ear.  By  the 
way,  you  are  a  Mason  are  you  not?" 

"I  am,  yes;  why?"  displeasure  showing  in  his  tone. 

"Come  here  and  I  will  tell  you.  I  would  get  down 
but  I  am  terribly  pressed  for  time,  so  you  must1  pardon 
me.  There!"  extending  an  arm  over  the  wheel  he 
drew  Mr.  Kendall's  hand  toward  the  seat,  and  bending 
over  whispered  in  his  ear. 

"What?     Are  you  sure?"    Kendall  exclaimed. 

"Absolutely.  Does  that  make  it  all  right  with  every- 
body? I  couldn't  possibly  come  before  to  clear  up 
things." 

"Certainly  it  does,  Doctor,  and  I  hope  you  will  ex- 
cuse me,  I  didn't  understand  it  at  all.  You  are  right 
all  of  you.  Can  I  do  anything?" 

"Nothing,  but  keep  it  on  the  ice— of  your  Masonic 
obligation,"  good  naturedly.  "Sorry  I  can't  stay  long- 
er, remember  me  to  your  wife.  Good  by,"  and  drove 
away. 

"There  Bonny  girl,  we  have  made  another  partial 
settlement,  and  our  books  will  soon  be  balanced  if  we 
continue  our  luck.  But  speaking  of  books  this  must  be 
where  our  dear  Reaper  lost  his  'Bundle  o'  Wheat'  ac- 
cording to  the  Revised  Version  of  Mr.  Simmons  and 
which  I  found  on  the  seat  of  the  Maud  S.,"  looking 
down  as  he  drove  up  the  Kendall  Hill.  "Speaking  of 
buggies  I  think  I  will  have  to  purchase  that  rig  from 
his  Reverence;  the  horse  too,  Bonny.  It's  a  shame 
you  should  not  have  her  to  play  with,  but  not  so  great 
a  shame  as  the  Elder's  having  her  to  work.  And  speak- 
ing of  horses,  girl,  this  is  where  you  ate  brush,  let's  see, 
—when  was  it,  last  year?  Things  have  been  going 
some  of  late,  haven't  they?  Here  we  are,  see  the 


210  FARMER  BIBBINS 

broken  twigs,  Bonny?  That's  the  place.  I  hope  we 
shall  be  in  better  business  hereafter.  I  know  you  don't 
like  spying  on  your  friends,  do  you?" 

He  continued  talking  to  himself  when  awake  till  he 
gave  Bonny  into  the  hands  of  his  man,  and  himself  into 
the  arms  of  Morpheus,  where  he  remained  until  three 
of  the  clock  that  afternoon.  When  he  wakened  he  put 
on  what  clothing  he  had  removed,  and  went  into  his 
office.  Touching  a  button  under  his  desk  he  rang  the 
kitchen  bell,  sat  back  and  waited. 

"Best  sleep  I've  had  in  a  month,"  he  observed, 
stretching  himself.  "I'll  do  now  for  a  week  anyway," 
smiling.  "Yes,  Mrs.  Bates,  come  in,"  to  the  house- 
keeper who  was  rapping  on  a  private  door  leading  to 
his  office.  "Anyone  waiting  out  there?"  speaking  in 
a  low  tone. 

"Yes,  Doctor  Gilbert,"  following  his  example,  "sev- 
eral; some  of  them  nearly  all  day." 

"All  right,  who  are  they?"  continuing  the  low  voice. 

She  named  several,  concluding  with  the  Elder. 

"Ah,"  was  all  he  said  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
looked  up;  "Soft  boil  three  eggs,  fry  three  slices  of 
bacon,  make  three  pieces  of  toast,  prepare  three  cups 
of  coffee,  and  have  it  ready  in  three  times  three  min- 
utes, plus  one,  will  you  please?"  his  eyes  twinkling  with 
merriment  at  the  disconcerted  Mrs.  Bates.  "Tell 
them,"  pointing  to  the  waiting  room,  "to  come  in  in  the 
order  of  their  arrival,  unless  the  Elder  comes  first.  In 
that  case  the  first  shall  be  last,  and  the  second— first, 
Mrs.  Bates.  It  will  be  good  for  the  Elder  to  exercise 
the  virtue  of  patience,  don't  you  think?" 

"Indeed  I  do  sir,  and  some  others  too,"  but  she 
waited  not  to  explain  whether  she  meant  other  virtues 
or  other  people,  for  she  spoke  in  a  loud  tone  and  was 
abashed  when  the  doctor  raised  a  warning  hand. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

"THE  BIRD"  LOSES  HIMSELF  AMONG  THE  TREES 

•A  H,  how  are  you  Elder?  Hope  you  have 
/%  not  been  waiting.  It  appears  that  I  am 
/  %  always  keeping  you.  What  can  I  do  for 
JL  JL.you  today?" 

"Good  morning,  Doctor;  Bro — Farmer  Bibbins  call- 
ed on  me  this  morning  to  secure  my  services  for  per- 
forming at  the  last  rites  on  the  body  of  our  deceased 
Brother  Lowton,  whose  untimely  removal  from  the 
scene  of  our  earthly  warfare  comes  as  a  great  shock 
to  me,  his  worthless,  a,  ah,  I  mean,  unworthy  pastor 
for  we  were  holding  sweet  communion  of  thought  not 
long  before  he  was  picked  up  from  the  Highway  of 
Life,  in  the  road  by  Bro—  a,  ah,  by  that  godless  Sim- 
mons, whose  friends  call  a  Bird,  but  who  should  be- 
cause of  his  sinless  wallowing  in  the  mire  of  unusual 
daypravity,— a  — ah,  should  be  called  a  duck,  Bro— 
Dr.  Gilbert,  so  Farmer  Bibbins  informs  me." 

His  determined  shying  at  the  fraternal  word  showed 
the  state  of  his  brotherly  feelings  toward  mankind  in 
general,  and  the  three  persons  named  in  particular. 
Dr.  Gilbert  in  his  efforts  to  analyze  the  ambiguous 
statements  and  suppress  his  laughter  at  the  picture  of 
Mr.  Coffee  performing  on  the  body  of  the  deceased 
Lowton,  and  the  duck-like  qualities  of  the  Bird,  found 
no  time  to  comment.  The  Elder  was  bound  to  say 
more,  and  he  could  lose  none  of  it. 

"Dr.  Gilbert,  you  will  comprehend  how  easily  I  am 
diverted  by  any  unusual  distraction  occasioned  by  the 
timely  death  of  a  beloved  member  of  my  flock,  when  I 

211 


212  FARMER  BIBBINS 

tell  you  that  my  night  was  spent  in  lamentation  and 
prayer  which  greatly  comforted  me  when  I  learned  of 
the  a— a — ah— taking  off  of  our  late  demented  Brother 
Lowton."  After  saying  which  the  speaker  turned  away 
his  head. 

The  Doctor  had  never  seen  the  Elder  weep  outside 
of  the  pulpit  and  seldom  there;  his  duties  gener- 
ally preventing  his  attendance.  He  was  aware  how- 
ever of  the  shepherd's  customary  method  of  di- 
luting the  milk  of  the  Gospel  with  which  he  weekly 
nourished  his  flock.  He  was  therefore  uneasy  for  a 
second  when  he  saw  the  bereaved  reaching  for  a  hand- 
kerchief, but  in  glancing  at  the  dry  eyes,  he  saw  no 
reason  for  uneasines  as  yet. 

The  duct  of  the  unshed  tears  having  been  plugged 
by  a  lavish  massaging,  the  Elder  proceeded: 

"Doctor,  when  last  I  had  the  misfortune  to  call  upon 
you  in  the  a  — ah— this  official  sanctomb,  I  was  greatly 
excited  by  a  a — ah— the  extraordinary  odors  of  your 
experience  and  a  breast  filled  with  suspicions  against 
one  of  the  most  daypraved  specimens  of  a — ah — im- 
moral humanity,  and  I  have  been  thinking  that  I  may 
have  cast  dispersion  upon  one  whose  errant  life  sub- 
jects him  to  the  ready  suspicions  of  a  man  of  my  sacred 
office,  and  as  I  have  a— ah — heard  from  Mr.  Bibbins 
this  morning,  that  he  has  become  responsible  for  the 
future  conduct  of  the  before  mentioned,  I  should  like 
with  more  abundant  good  will  than  I  am  a— ah— in  the 
habit  of  trespassing  upon  the  favor  of  my  fellows  to 
recall  any  diversion  of  your  own  suspicions  from  one 
whom  I  may  have  unintentionally  cast  my  words  to  the 
detriment  of  a — ah — all  who  have  taken  it  upon  them- 
selves to  interest  the  a— ah — " 

"I  think  I  understand  you  fully,  Elder,"  affably 
nodding  and  looking  at  the  other,  whose  perturbed 


"THE  BIRD"  LOSES  HIMSELF        2 1 3 

manner  was  becoming  embarrassing.  "And  I  assure 
you  that  whatever  you  said  to  me  will  receive  only  the 
most  careful  and  just  consideration.  You  need  worry 
about  the  injured  man  no  more,  or  that  any  disclosures 
you  made  of  your  suspicions  will  harm  him  in  the 
least,"  rising  as  a  suggestion  for  the  Elder  to  with- 
draw. "I  am  sorry  you  have  suffered  on  his  account, 
and  hope  you  will  relieve  your  mind  on  that  score  at 
least.  Now  to  change  the  subject— for  I  have  to  drive 
into  the  country  and  must  be  off— if  you  can  tell  me 
about  your  arrangements  with  Mr.  Bibbins  for  the 
funeral,  I  shall  be  glad  to  inform  any  of  the  neighbor- 
ing farmers  of  the  time  and  the  place." 

The  minister's  relief  was  so  great  that  no  effort  at 
self  restraint  could  have  prevented  the  long  drawn  sigh 
which  escaped  him,  or  kept  back  the  one  visible  drop 
of  brine  lodging  upon  his  nose.  Ever  true  to  his  colors, 
nothing  could  have  prevented  him  from  placing  him- 
self so  that  the  doctor  should  see  it.  Relieved  in  large 
measure  of  the  mind  racking  anxiety  under  which  he 
had  passed  the  last  few  days  by  the  doctor's  tactful 
words,  Elder  Coffee  walked  away  from  that  scientist's 
"sanctomb"  with  such  resiliency  of  movement  that  Mr. 
Bertrand  Simmons,  who  was  coming  from  the  post- 
office  at  the  moment  noticed  it,  and  quietly  remarked; 
"Wall  I'll  be  gol  derned  'f  I  don'  b'leve  the  Elder's 
ben  a  tradin'  hosses,  'nless  sumun  has  give  him  nuther 
Bundle  o'  Wheat,  or  suthin',"  and  chuckling  to  himself 
climbed  into  his  "Democrat"  and  started  homeward. 

After  arranging  for  the  services  and  burial  of  Mr. 
Lowton,  Farmer  Bibbins  also  started  homeward.  He 
was  some  distance  ahead  of  his  neighbor  Mr.  Sim- 
mons and  was  driving  slowly,  deep  in  thought.  So 
much  had  occurred  during  the  week  that  he  was  for  the 
first  time  fully  conscious  of  the  kindly  turn  events  had 


2i4  FARMER  BIBBINS 

taken  for  him,  though  recalling  the  ill  which  the  same 
winds  had  blown  to  others  he  could  find  little  satisfac- 
tion in  their  diverting  entrance  upon  the  scene  to  force 
from  his  mind  his  own  personal  causes  of  worry. 

Suddenly  the  scene  at  the  fire  when  Mose  addressed 
him  came  vividly  to  mind.  Unconsciously  he  straight- 
ened himself  at  the  thought  that  it  was  the  first  time 
since  the  peddler's  departure  from  his  house  after  his 
recovery  that  he  had  seen  or  heard  of  him.  Also  that 
it  was  the  longest  period  since  the  Jew  first  came 
through  his  section  of  the  country  since  he  had  paid 
him  a  visit.  Did  it  mean  anything?  Had  he  suffered 
a  relapse  after  Charles  had  taken  him  to  Riverton? 
How  was  it  that  he  showed  up  at  that  particular  time 
and  place,  fully  informed  regarding  the  efforts  of 
Bert  and  the  intentions  of  the  neighbors  ?  Why  should 
they  have  selected  Mose  to  address  him,  and  above  all 
why  had  they  selected  that  place  and  hour  for  deliver- 
ing it?  What  was  it  he  said  anyway?  They  were  ex- 
pecting to  come  tomorrow,  that  is  today — only  the  fire 
and  its  having  been  the  means  of  assembling  all  togeth- 
er had  interferred  with  their  plans,  and  so  they  de- 
cided to  inform  him  then.  But  what  for?  Ah,  the 
Mill !  It  was  running,  his  logs  were  being  sawed  into 
lumber  for  the  factory.  Surely  he  would  never  have 
forgotten  that  if  it  were  true?  He  must  have  been 
dreaming !  No,  it  was  no  dream  for  Mr.  Lowton  was 
dead,  and  he  had  just  arranged  for  the  funeral.  The 
Lowton  cattle  were  in  his  south  yard  and  the  Lowton 
boys  with  Charley  were  by  this  time  at  Riverton  in- 
terviewing Judge  Scott.  What  a  good,  grand  old  man 
was  the  cleanly  shaved  whitefaced  surrogate.  No,  it 
was  no  dream !  Still  after  all  he  had  been  dreaming, 
for  his  failure  to  tell  Frances  of  these  statements  and 
their  inferences  was  proof  of  it.  But  then  that  "Lit- 


"THE  BIRD"  LOSES  HIMSELF         215 

tie  Girl"  was  so  taken  up  with  her  care  of  a  big  strap- 
ping youth,  commonly  supposed  to  be  a  tramp  trying  to 
reform  — as  he  himself  had  once  suggested  to  Charley! 
—which  accounted  for  that. 

But  what  of  Mose?  Why  had  he  hurried  him  — Farm- 
er Bibbins — away  after  delivering  the  address  for  the 
people  surrounding  the  wagon,  and  where  in  the  world 
had  the  Jew  gone  instead  of  coming  to  himself  and 
the  wife  for  a  visit?  Ah,  yes,  the  injured  young  man, 
and  the  stricken  Mrs.  Lowton  and  the  dead  Mr.  Low- 
ton,  these  were  quite  enough  to  restrain  a  man  of  or- 
dinary intelligence,  much  more  one  of  the  peddler's 
culture  and  breeding,  from  presuming  to  tresspass  up- 
on their  hospitality.  Surely;  but  why? 

"Hey,  thar!  Farmer  Bibbins,  whatinallgetout's 
the  matter  'ith  ye?  Coin'  t'  take  all  day  t'  git  hum?" 
hailed  a  familiar  voice  from  behind. 

"Good  morning,  Bert,  what  are  you  doing  out  so 
early?  I  hardly  expected  you'd  be  up  at  this  hour." 

"Arly,  ye  call  this  'arly?  Taint  nun  'arly  fer  mel 
W'y  I  ain't  bin  t'  bed  nun  yit  sence  I  druv  hum  las' 
night." 

Then  fearful  of  being  questioned,  for  Farmer  Bib- 
bins  had  drawn  up  by  the  road  and  was  waiting  for 
him  to  come  alongside : 

"Air  ye  'fraid  I'll  run  'at  ole  plug  o'  yourn  down, 
'at  yer  gitten  out'n  the  road?"  he  asked,  drawing  rein, 
though  anxious  to  drive  on. 

"Not  with  that  team,  Bert.     What's  new?" 

"Nothin',  yes  thar  is  too,  b'  gosh— the  Elder! 
jes'  seen  him  walkin'  by  the  pos'office,  an'  I'll  be  gol 
derned  'f  I  didn't  think  't  fust  'at  he  hed  the  string 
halt,  he  wuz  a  steppin'  so  high.  Ye  ain't  seen  nary 
farmer  as  is  a  walkin'  opposite-like,  hev  ye?  cos  I 
tho't  mebbe  he'd  ben  tradin'  hosses  agin." 


2i6  FARMER  BIBBINS 

Farmer  Bibbins  laughed.  "No,  I  believe  his  high 
stepping  is  the  result  of  what  he  considers  a  clear  con- 
science, Bert.  In  other  words  his  mind  is  easy  because 
he  thinks  himself  secure  in  his  rascality.  I  interviewed 
him  this  morning  about  the  funeral  which  delighted 
him  immensely.  I  don't  mean  the  funeral  but  the  fact 
that  he  was  engaged  to  preach  the  sermon.  You  never 
saw  so  complete  a  change  in  a  man's  appearance  in  so 
short  a  time  before  in  your  life.  When  he  came  to  the 
door  his  face  was  as  long  as  a  pole.  At  the  sight  of  me 
it  went  livid  with  fear,  as  if  the  mask  had  been  sudden- 
ly stripped  from  it,  but  when  I  told  him  the  object  of 
my  visit  it  lost  its  haggard  care-worn  look  so  quickly 
you  might  have  thought  he  was  receiving  a  reprieve 
from  a  sentence  of  death  instead  of  a  request  to  bury  a 
favorite  member  of  his  congregation." 

"Wai,  'at  air  'preve,  er  whatever  tis,  ye  call  't,  jes' 
'bout  covers  the  groun',  don'  it?  Taint  much  o'  eny- 
thin'  else  the  way  I  seen  't,  when  ye  spoke  ont.  Ye  see, 
Farmer  Bibbins,"  crossing  his  legs  over  the  dashboard 
and  leaning  comfortably  back,  "I  ain't  nun  sure  'at  the 
Elder  ain't  got  suthin'  up  his  sieve  arter  all  'at  me  'n 
you  'n  Doc'  don'  know  nary  thin'  'bout.  I'm  purty 
shore  he  wuz  a  cumin'  from  the  Doc's  office  when  I 
seen  him  a  leetle  while  'go  an'  I'll  bet  one  o'  Lista's 
cookies  by  gosh,  'at  'f  the  Doc' ain't  fooledhim  complete, 
he's  jes'  fooled  the  Doc.  Gilbert's  a  purty  keen  feller 
alright,  an'  nary  tother  physician  round'  yere  kin  hoi' 
a  taller  dip  t'  him  when  it  cums  t'  slingin'  pills,  'r  set- 
tin'  legs,  'r  trespassin'  skulls  'r  eny  thin'  like  't,  but  by 
gosh,  the  Elder  ain't  sech  a  gol  dern  fool  neether  when 
it  cums  t'  slingin'  words— on'y  I  don'  jest  ketch  on  t' 
every  thin'  he  means,  allus,"  he  was  preparing  for  a 
flight  and  while  his  friend  quietly  waited  the  Bird  bent 
his  head  for  a  clear  start. 


"THE  BIRD"  LOSES  HIMSELF         217 

"Ye  see,  taint  nun  o'  my  bizness  'bout  yer  neffy,  cos 
'at's  yourn  'n  hisn,  but  'f  the  Doc  wuz  right  in 
saying  Mose  said  'You  Matt,'  when  they  trespassed 
his  skull  'at  time,  I'l  be  gol  derned  'f  I  kin  see  how 
your  neffy  hed  a  gosh  dern  thin'  t'  do  'ith  it  more  'n  t' 
kinder  take  a  han'  in  the  gen'ral  mix-up.  I  ain't  askin' 
nary  explanashun  from  enybody  cos  taint  nun  o'  my 
bizness  ez  I  said  'fore,  but  gol  dern  't,  the  Doc'  ain't 
no  pope  in  sayin'  thin's  'at  ain't  so,  an'  makin'  'em 
cum  so,  jes'  cos  he  says  they  is,  not  by  a  gol  dern  sight. 
Nor  I  ain't  sayin'  nuthin'  gainst  the  Doc',  'r  my  res- 
pec'  fer  him  neether,  cos  I  got  so  gol  dern  much  on't 
'at  'f  I  don'  ketch  my  hat  the  minit  I  see  him,  the  dog- 
gon  thin'  jest  naterally  cums  off  o'  itself.  But  jest  the 
same  the  Doc's  unfallible  like  the  res'  on  us,  on'y  more 
so  mebbe,  cos  he's  got  eddykshun,  an'  me  at  least,  I 
ain't  got  nun.  Jest  same  I  kin  see  threw  a  woods  'f 
the  trees  ain't  too  thick  an'  clost'  t'gether,  an'  they  ain't 
so  gol  dern  thick  whar  I  am  jest  't  present  that  I  can't 
see  that  shepherd  a  hidin'  behin'  one  on  'em  like  'sif  he'd 
ben  a  stealin'  one  o'  his  own  sheep.  I  know  he  is  an' 
don't  ye  forgit  it  nun,  Farmer  Bibbins,  'at  it's  the  Bird 
a  warblin'  sum  now,  and  while  I  ain't  nun  boastful  I 
jest  wanner  say,  an'  I  sez  it  too,  at  birds  sumtimes  kin 
see  thin's  in  the  woods  'at  ordinary  folks  can't.  Cos 
ye  see  they  roost  on  lim's  sumtimes  when  they  ain't  a 
flyin'  over  the  top  on  'em.  But  ez  I  wuz  a  sayin',  at— 
the — Doc's,  a,  ah,  yes,  at  the  Doc's,  mighty  sharp  an' 
the  bes'  gol  dern  physician  in  the  hull  county,  but  'at 
ain't  all.  He's  got  the  bes'  — I  gotter  say  bes'  cos  'at's 
what  I  mean,  cos  thar's  a  bes'  in  evrythin'  even  'mong 
the  wursest,  on'y  the  bes'  'mong  the  wursest  is  the 
wursest  in  the  hull  dern  bunch.  It's  jest  like  one  o' 
them  air  trees  I  wuz  a  speakin'  'bout:  thar's  the  lim's 
an'  they're  allus  purty,  but  thar's  the  roots  too  an'  they 


2i8  FARMER  BIBBINS 

ain't  purty,  but  jest  same  they's  allus  there  'fore  the 
lim's,  too.  Now  I  call  the  lim's  good  folks  like  ye  and 
the  Doc,  an'  I  call  the  roots,  wall,  jest  call  'em  roots 
like  the  Elder  'n  Bony — 'fore  he  cashed  up — cos  taint 
no  wusser  t'  speak  o'  the  ded,  than  'tis  o'  the  livin',  not 
by  a  gol  dern  sight,  taint  so  bad  neether,  on'y  folk's 
shamed  to  tell  their  tho'ts  'bout  the  ded,  but  don'  care 
'bout  sayin'  anythin'  they  please  'bout  the  livin'.  Now 
thar's  good  lim's,  and  bad  uns  too,  an'  thar's  good 
roots  an'  bad  roots  too.  On'y  the  bad  uns  'mong  the 
lim's  ain't  nary  good,  and  the  good  uns  'mong  the  roots 
ain't  nary  bad,  cos  ye  see  to  be  the  bes'  'mong  the  good 
uns,  ye  gotter  be  the  bes',  and  to  be  the  bes'  'mong  the 
bad  uns  ye  gotter  be  the  wust.  D'ye  see  ?  'Ts  like  this 
the  bes'  man  gotter  hev  the  bes'  and  more  on't  than 
any  other,  and  the  wust  to  be  the  bes'  hez  gotter  hev 
more  o'  the  wust  and  airy  other;  I  don'  know  ez  I  made 
't  all  clar  t'  ye,  Farmer  Bibbins,  cos  I  ain't  nun  sartain' 
ez  I've  made  't  all  clar  t'  myself.  But  I  gues  'ts  'bout 
as  clar  as  the  fust  bein'  las'  and  the  las'  fust,  and  'bout 
the  same  thin'  arter  all." 

"Now,  ez  I  wuz  a  sayin',  'fore  I  got  'bove  the  trees; 
the  Doc's  sharper  'n  chain  litin',  and  the  bes'  gol  dern 
man  in  the  country  'mong  the  good  uns.  But  the  Elder 
ain't  so  far  fum  the  greates'  o'  the  roots  hisself,  on'y 
he's  on  tother  side,  so  seems  like  'twas  the  bes'  man  on 
one  side  'gainst  the  best  man  on  tother  side  on'y  one 
on  'em's  'mong  the  lim's  and  tother's  'mong  the  roots. 
The  Elder  kin  sure  sling  words  sum,  on'y  'f  he'd  make 
himself  a  leetle  more  clar  't  times  so's  folks  cud  un- 
nerstan'  him  better,  I'd— be — thankful— to— get— a — 
hoi'— say  whatinell  wuz  I  a  tryin'  t'  say  enyway?  Did 
ye  ketch  my  meanin'?"  breaking  off  rather  abruptly, 
and  laughing  with  the  other  man  who  tried  to  control 
himself  as  he  answered,  "I  certainly  did." 


219 

"Wai,  ye  did  better'n  I  did,  cos  I  ain't  nun  sure  on 
t'  myself,  I'll  admit.  But  I  wanner  say  'at  any  man 
who  kin  beat  me  tradin'  hosses  the  way  the  Elder  did 
oncet,  ain't  going  to  be  co't  nun  jest  cos  the  Doc'  gits 
a  leetle  salt  on  his  tail  like.  Any  one  who  cud  a 
thought  out  that  air  iron  bar  bizness  hed  a  wise  'nuit 
reason  for  doin'  on't,  an'  don'  ye  ner  the  Doc'  neether 
fergit  't." 

"I  half  believe  you  are  right,  Bert,  and  hope  sincere- 
ly you  will  prove  to  be  fully  right.  But  the  boy  couldn't 
be  mistaken  could  he?" 

"Sartainly  he  cud,  an'  is  too,  by  gosh!" 

"I  hope  so  with  all  my  heart."  Then  looking  wist- 
fully at  Mr.  Simmons  as  that  gentleman  noticed,  be- 
gan, "Could  you  tell  me — " 

"Nuthin',  Farmer  Bibbins,  not  a  gol  dern  thin',  on'y 
jest  go  head  'ith  the  factory,  soon  ez  ye  git  Bony  ber- 
ried, and  tother  one  offen  yer  han's.  So  long,  I  gotter 
see  a  man  'fore  night,"  and  he  whipped  up  his  team 
and  rattled  away  over  the  frozen  road  ahead  of  Farm- 
er Bibbins  who  followed  at  a  slower  pace. 

It  seemed  to  him  as  he  continued  on  his  way,  again 
deeply  thoughtful,  that  things  enough  had  happened 
during  the  last  three  months,  with  all  the  worries,  and 
anxieties  accompanying  them,  to  crush  him  and  yet 
he  was  filled  with  a  hopeful  buoyancy  in  spite  of  them. 
When  he  entered  his  own  driveway  he  glanced  toward 
the  barn,  and  there — could  it  be  possible?— The 
Prophet  engaged  in  a  favorite  pastime  was  before  him, 
with  a  cat  clinging  to  the  corner  of  the  barn  just  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  terrier's  highest  jump.  It  was  noon, 
or  a  little  after,  for  the  men  were  issuing  from  the 
kitchen  door. 

"Here  Charley,  take  the  horse,  I'll  get  down  here. 
I'm  pretty  cold,"  he  said,  and  entered  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XX 

MOSE  MAKES  FRANCES  A  GIFT 

ON  entering  the  house,  Wood  paused  a  few 
moments  to  remove  his  hat  and  coat  and  was 
standing  by  the   stove   warming   his   hands 
when  a  cheery,  happy  voice,  the  only  voice, 
came  from  the  large  sittingroom;  "No,  please  don't 
Mose,  there  won't  be  a  chair  left  to  sit  on  if  you  do," 
it  was  saying  when  the  door  opened  and  the  peddler 
came  in. 

"Hello,  Mose,  how  are  you?  Where  in  the  world 
have  you  been?  What  have  you  been  doing?  And 
why  did  you  come  so  mysteriously  upon  the  scene  at  the 
fire  yesterday,  and  as  mysteriously  disappear?  Come 
you  Wanderer,  give  an  account  of  yourself  or  I'll  throw 
you  out,  pack,  dog,  and  all!"  grasping  the  Jew's  hand 
and  warmly  shaking  it. 

"One  at  a  time  question,  Farmer  Bippins,"  slightly 
emotional  at  the  hearty  greeting,  which  was  manifest 
only  in  the  enunciation  of  his  words. 

"Come  to  the  stove,  and  I  will  tell  you  all,"  smiling 
broadly,  and  leading  the  way  into  the  other  room  where 
Frances  stood  in  the  center  of  the  room  surrounded  by 
tables,  stands  and  chairs,  piled  high  with  suitings,  laces, 
prints,  towels,  tablecloths,  napkins,  hosiery,  garters, 
elastic  bands,  razors,  buttons,  pins,  needles,  combs, 
mouth-organs,  jack  knives,  gloves,  mittens,  caps,  muf- 
flers, in  fact  everything  belonging  to  the  customary 
stock  of  the  itinerant  merchant,  only  there  was  about 
ten  times  the  usual  quantity,  and  far  more  than  any 
human  being  could  lift,  much  less  carry  in  one  bundle. 

220 


MOSE  MAKES  FRANCES  A  GIFT      221 

"What  in  the  world?  Say  Mose,  that  crack  on  the 
head  couldn't  have  weakened  you  much—" 

"But  it  did,  Farmer  Bippins,  that  is  why  you  see  so 
much  more  than  I  used  to  carry." 

Wood  looked  at  him  doubtingly. 

"What  is  it,  Mose?  Are  you,  or  am  I,  crazy?" 
Then  turning  to  his  wife  who  stood  laughing  at  his 
perplexity,  "Come  wife,  help  me  out  of  this,  I'm  like  a 
cow  in  a  swamp." 

"Let  me  explain,"  said  Mose.  "As  I  said,  the  in- 
jury weakened  me  so  much  I  could  no  longer  carry  n. 
pack.  So  I  purchased  a  team  and  wagon.  The  wagon 
I  had  built  after  a  plan  I  designed  myself.  The  team 
and  the  wagon  are  in  your  barn  now.  Hence  all  this 
stock  which  your  maid-servant  with  Charley  helped 
me  to  bring  in  to  the  house  for  your  good  wife  to  in- 
spect." 

He  removed  some  of  the  goods  from  a  chair  and 
handed  it  to  Farmer  Bibbins. 

"Your  wife,  like  yourself,  has  been  much  troubled, 
and  I  thought  it  would  do  her  good  to  think  of  other 
things  for  a  while  besides  her  patients,"  he  went  on 
apologetically,  for  a  moment  not  understanding  the 
silence  of  Farmer  Bibbins.  "It  was  to  relieve  her  anx- 
iety for  them  that  I  brought  these  in." 

"I'm  glad  you  did,  Mose.  Frances  appreciates  it 
I  know.  But  I  want  to  see  that  cart.  It  must  be  a 
wonder  to  hold  all  this." 

"So  do  I,  Wood.  But  let's  have  dinner  first.  Mose 
and  I  have  been  too  busy  to  eat.  Then  we  will  go  to 
the  barn.  I'll  speak  to  Maggie,"  said  Frances  and 
left  the  room. 

The  wagon  was  fully  inspected  by  Wood  and  Fran- 
ces, the  goods  restored  to  their  several  compartments, 
and  Mose  was  about  to  drive  away  when  he  said :— 


222  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Farmer  Bippins,  you  have  sufficient  responsibility 
for  the  next  day  or  two  to  keep  all  your  faculties  busy, 
so  I  shall  not  annoy  you  with  my  presence.  But  after 
you  are  relieved  of  some  of  these  more  pressing  af- 
fairs I  shall  return.  There  are  many  things  I  wish 
to  talk  over  with  you  and  your  good  wife,  but  not  to- 
day. I  have  not  the  time  anyway,  I — " 

"You  will  be  back  for  the  night,  Mose?"  asked 
Frances.  "Your  bed  is  not  occupied  and  you  will  not 
interfere.  We  would  be  pleased  to  have  you,"  look- 
ing at  Wood  as  she  spoke. 

"Yes,  Mose,  come  back,  I  won't  ask  a  question," 
guessing  at  the  peddler's  reason  for  going.  "Not  till 
after  the  funeral  anyway,"  he  added,  laughing  at  the 
man  on  the  wagon,  whose  face  showed  that  the  guess 
was  truly  aimed. 

"You  are  sure  I  shall  not  inconvenience  you?" 
searching  Frances'  face  with  his  piercing  black  eyes. 

"Not  in  the  least.  Deliver  your  orders  and  come 
back.  Supper  at  the  usual  hour." 

"Thank  you,  good  lady,  if  I  am  not  detained." 

A  few  hours  later  Farmer  Bibbins  and  his  wife  were 
sitting  by  the  grate  in  the  little  room.  It  was  already 
dark  and  a  lamp  was  lighted. 

"Well  wife,  what's  the  news?  Now  the  undertaker 
has  taken  Mr.  Lowton's  body  away  the  house  seems 
empty.  How's  Mother  Lowton  and  your  tramp?" 

"Don't  you  dare  call  him  a  tramp.  He  never  was 
one  and  you  know  it.  Mrs.  Lowton  is  the  same. 
Ward  suffers  terrible  pain,  but  he  won't  take  anything 
to  ease  it  except  at  night.  Say,  Wood,  I  just  love 
that  boy,  he's  splendid.  But  he  is  worried  about  some- 
thing. He  says  that  he  isn't,  but  I  know  that  he  is. 
What  do  you  think  is  troubling  him?  Our  bringing 
him  here  couldn't  surely,  for  he  requested  it,  didn't 


MOSE  MAKES  FRANCES  A  GIFT      223 

he?" 

"No,  wife,  it's  not  that,  though  I  know  he  worries 
and  thinks  he  has  reason  to  in  a  way.  But  hasn't 
he  said  anything  to  you?" 

"Not  a  word  which  explains  anything.  Once  in  the 
night  I  heard  him  say— but  thought  it  might  be  the 
pain  or  morphine— 'God,  what  have  I  done?'  What 
does  it  mean,  Wood?  Do  you  know?" 

"Yes,  Frances,  I  know  and  if  you  will  sit  here  by  me 
I  will  tell  you  everything  I  know." 

He  repeated  word  for  word,  his  conversation  with 
Ward  the  evening  the  boy  was  brought  over  from 
Kendall's.  "But  don't  let  him  see  that  you  know, 
wife.  He  told  me  I  might  tell  you  and  Doc  but  some- 
how I  haven't  felt  like  telling  you." 

"I'm  glad  you  haven't." 

"But  the  Doctor  knows  doesn't  he?  It's  impossible 
to  keep  anything  from  him.  It's  wonderful  how  he 
figures  out  everything." 

"Has  Doc  said  anything  that  makes  you  believe  he 
suspects  more  than  what  I  have  just  told  you?"  anx- 
iously. He  wondered  if  the  Doctor  had  forgotten  their 
agreement. 

"Only  what  he  said  assuringly  to  Ward:  'You  have 
no  reason,  whatever,  to  worry,  my  boy,  everything  is 
coming  out  fine !'  or  something  like  it." 

Wood  was  satisfied.  "To  change  the  subject,  wife, 
Bert  overtook  me  coming  home;  I  was  driving  slowly 
and  first  thing  I  knew  he  was  right  behind  me.  We 
talked  for  some  time,  at  least  he  did,"  laughing  at  the 
remembrance  of  what  the  Bird  had  said.  "He  says  it's 
possible,  and  made  me  half  agree  with  him  too,  that 
Ward  isn't  altogether  right  in  what  he  says  occurred  in 
the  barn  that  day.  Say,  he's  a  Bird  in  more  ways  than 
one.  That  fellow  would  have  been  president  had  he 


224  FARMER  BIBBINS 

been  properly  educated— unless  he  is  too  honest.     His 
mind  is  equal  to  Doc  Gilbert's  in  all  but  the  training." 

"What  did  he  tell  you  that  makes  you  think  Ward 
may  be  mistaken  ?  God  grant  that  Bert  is  right,  though 
I  don't  see  how  he  can  be,"  she  said  sadly.  "You 
don't  know  how  I  love  the  boy.  He's  like  a  son  to  me ; 
and  the  image  of  his  mother,  poor  Fanny." 

"It  was  not  so  much  what  he  said,  as  the  way  he 
said  it  that  partly  convinced  me,  though  last  night  he 
said  he  knew  it  was  the  Elder  who  did  it,"  he  replied 
giving  Bert's  theory  in  his  own  words  so  far  as  he  could 
recall  them.  "But  to  change  the  subject  again;  I  have 
good  news,  wife !" 

"Good  news,"  looking  up  wonderingly.  "What 
news?" 

"The  mill  is  running,  and  the  farmers  are  going  to 
stand  by  me.  I  got  it  straight  this  time." 

"What?     Do  you  mean  it,  Wood?" 

"That's  what  Mose  told  me." 

"Oh,  Wood,  I'm  so  glad!"  and  threw  herself  on  to 
his  knees  with  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  cried 
as  if  her  heart  were  breaking  with  sorrow  rather  than 
happiness.  Wood  permitted  her  to  cry,  the  while  pat- 
ting her  shoulder  and  pressing  her  beautiful  hair  with 
his  lips. 

"There,  there,  little  Girl,  cry  away!  It  will  do  you 
good.  I  would  myself  only  it  doesn't  look  well."  Nev- 
ertheless he  held  a  handkerchief  in  his  hand. 

"I  made  an  ass  of  myself  only  a  few  days  ago," 
wiping  his  eyes.  "It  seems  years  away,  doesn't  it 
wife?" 

It  was  well  for  him,  if  he  cared,  that  she  did  not 
look  at  him  for  sometime,  for  be  it  said  to  his  honor 
that  the  tears  were  still  visible  in  his  eyes  whether  it 
looked  well  or  not.  When  her  crying  subsided,  she 


MOSE  MAKES  FRANCES  A  GIFT      225 

asked;  — 

"When  did  you  learn,  Wood,  today?" 

"No,  wife,  he  told  me  yesterday  in  the  presence  ot 
all  who  came  to  the  fire.  He  made  a  speech  for  the 
men.  It  only  shows  what  a  weakling  I  am  when  I  tell 
you  that  I  had  so  completely  surrendered  to  what  I 
believed  was  the  inevitable  that  it  made  no  more  im- 
pression on  me  than  one  of  the  Elder's  sermons.  I 
was  nearly  home  from  Madran  today  before  it  dawn- 
ed upon  me— what  it  all  meant— or  I  should  have  told 
you  before.  Did  you  know  that  you  owned  such  a 
blockhead?  I  suppose  it  was  the  effect  of  all  the  ex- 
citement." 

"Oh,  yes,"  dabbing  at  her  eyes  and  cheeks,  "I've 
known  it  for  some  time,"  kissing  him  more  like  a  bride 
of  six  days  than  a  wife  of  sixteen  years  standing. 
"Yes,  you  blockhead,  I  knew  that  I  owned  you  or  that 
you  owned  me,  whichever  it  is,"  kissing  him  again. 
"And  I  know  also  that  the  troubles  of  other  people  do 
sometimes  bring  out  the  best  there  is  in  a  man;  no  I 
don't  mean  that  exactly.  It  hasn't  brought  it  out  so  much 
as  it  has  shone  through  you,  you  blockhead,  and  with- 
out a  setting  sun  to  attract  it  to  the  surface  either,"  she 
said  giving  him  another  lingering  one.  "Even  if  you 
have  associated  with  men,  who  generally  let  trouble 
bring  out  the  other  kind,  you— blockhead,  oh !  how  I 
love  you!"  with  a  final  kiss  which  nearly  smothered 
him. 

"Yes,  Ward,  I'm  coming,"  running  out  of  the  room 
in  answer  to  a  call  that  was  never  framed  by  Ward 
in  words,  or  heard  by  any  ears  save  her  own.  Nor  did 
it  take  her  to  her  nephew's  room  but  to  her  own  dresser 
where  certain  lotions  were  kept  to  remove  tearstains 
or  other  disfigurations  from  the  face  and  eyes,  when 
needed. 


226  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Lord,  if  Doc  had  a  wife  like  that  what  a  man  he 
would  be?" 

"Would  he?"  said  a  voice  from  the  opposite  door. 
"Thanks  awfully,  you  blockhead." 

"Well,— I'll^say  you  licensed  murderer,  what  are 
you  doing  here?" 

"I  was  witnessing  a  most  extraordinary  event.  Just 
at  the  present  I  am  wishing  that  your  words  'might 
have  been.'  ' 

"How  are  you  since  calling  on  his  reverence?  By 
the  recent  exposition  of  that  'unusual  daypravity'  so 
uncommon  in  this  Christian  community  you  have  evi- 
dently recovered  from  any  depressing  influence  he  may 
have  exercised  upon  you.  By  the  way,  I  drove  over  to 
see  your  neighbor's  wife,  Mrs.  Kendall,  who  is  seri- 
ously, though  not  dangerously  ill.  It  seems  your  nep- 
hew left  something  in  his  room  when  we  brought  him 
away,  which  the  girl,  Flora,  found,  and  Mrs.  Kendall 
was  taken  with  a  turn,  whatever  that  means.  I  usually 
call  it  something  else.  But  she  was  taken  with  some- 
thing when  she  caught  Flora  reading  it,  then  I  was 
sent  for.  Here  you  better  read  it,  for  once  I'm  glad 
your  wife  is  not  present." 

"Good  God !  Doc  what  shall  we  do?"  handing  back 
the  letter. 

"Nothing.  I've  done  all  that  can  be  done  until  after 
the  funeral,  then  we— that  is  yourself,  Mr.  Simmons 
and  I— will  do  the  rest." 

"What  have  you  done,  Doc?"  his  voice  sinking  al- 
most to  a  whisper,  in  his  anxiety. 

"I've  done  that— between  us  two— which  is  entirely 
unprofessional.  I've  put  the  women  to  sleep,  and  ex- 
plained to  Mr.  Kendall  that  if  he  can  keep  them  quiet 
until  tomorrow  about  this  time  they  will  completely  re- 
cover and  all  will  be  well.  I  also  left  some  medicine- 


MOSE  MAKES  FRANCES  A  GIFT      227 

the  same  in  each  case  to  be  given  regularly  every  four 
hours.  Kendall  has  no  knowledge  of  that  letter  I  am 
sure,  nor  has  anyone  except  the  two  women.  Mrs. 
Kendall  told  me  that  herself  and  she  can  tell  no  one 
until  she  wakens.  The  trouble  was  caused  by  a  quarrel 
between  the  two  women  over  the  letter;  Mrs.  Kendall 
wanting  to  suppress  it,  and  the  girl  to  put  the  Elder 
on  his  guard.  She  could  have  done  that,  letter  or  no 
letter,  so  it  was  up  to  me  to  do  something  to  prevent  it, 
then  explain  to  Kendall,  (who  fortunately  was  absent 
at  Riverton  and  did  not  return  until  after  I  had  things 
well  in  hand,)  that  the  two  ladies  had  probably  taken 
a  little  too  much  of  something  that  disagreed  with  their 
systems.  You  can  see  that  something  of  the  kind  was 
necessary,  though  I  could  not,  for  the  sake  of  keeping 
them  sleeping  for  the  next  twenty-four  hours,  risk 
telling  him  that  it  was  nothing  more  serious  than  their 
respective  tempers.  I  assured  him  that  they  would  be 
all  right  in  a  day  or  two.  It  was  the  only  way,  Wood, 
I  never  did  a  thing  like  that  before  in  my  life,  and  hope 
I  may  never  have  to  again.  But  I  had  to  save  Ward, 
and— the  rest  of  us." 

"God  bless  you,  Doc,"  he  said  softly.  "It  will  not 
injure  them?" 

"Not  in  the  least.  Kendall  will  see  that  they  are 
kept  undisturbed  and  quiet.  All  he  has  to  do  is  to  give 
the  medicine  regularly  to  keep  them  asleep.  I  fully 
impressed  upon  him  the  necessity  of  their  being  kept 
quiet.  'For  the  good  of  all  concerned.'  That  eased 
my  damn  conscience,  pardon  me,  but  so  much  fra- 
ternizing with  the  clergy  of  late  is  having  its  effect 
upon  me,  I  can  see  that,"  and  he  laughed  in  spite  of 
his  disgust  with  things  in  general  and  his  deception  of 
Mrs.  Kendall  in  particular.  After  a  moment  more, 
Farmer  Bibbins  broke  the  silence: 


228  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Did  Frances  see  you  come  in,  Doc?" 

"I  think  so,  yes;  unless  her  tears  eclipsed  her  vision. 
Farmer  Bibbins  why  can't  you  treat  your  wife  decent- 
ly? When  I  saw  her  she  had  been  crying  and  I'd 
like  an  opportunity  of  fixing  up  a  little  dose  for  you. 
What's  the  matter?  Been  abusing  her  again?" 

"That's  right,  Doc,  I  sure  have  this  time.  It  is  a 
clear  case  of  neglect,  I  had  forgotten  to  tell  her  of  our 
good  fortune." 

"What  good  fortune?" 

"About  the  contracts  and  the  mill!" 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  never  informed  her 
till  this  evening?" 

"That's  a  fact.  I  had  forgotten  it  utterly,  if  I  really 
got  the  idea  yesterday,  which  I  doubt.  But  let's  get 
down  to  facts,  wait  a  second." 

Farmer  Bibbins  went  in  search  of  his  wife  and  find- 
ing her  with  Maggie  preparing  supper  returned  and 
closed  the  doors. 

"All  right,  Doc,  what  about  the  letter?  It's  a 
copy  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  the  spaces  left  blank  all  but  the  initials— the 
meaning  of  which  we  know  pretty  well— would  indi- 
cate that  much." 

"What  do  you  suppose  he  did  with  the  original?" 

"Sent  it  to  the  district  attorney,  probably." 

"Lord!  you  don't  mean  that!  Why  has  nothing 
been  done  then?" 

"There  was  nothing  to  do,"  quietly. 

"Why?" 

"Ask  your  peddler." 

"You  mean?—" 

"I  mean  that  Mose  must  have  apprehended  any 
proceedings  on  his  part.  He  could  you  know." 

"No,  I  don't  know.    How  could  he  when  he  was  ill 


MOSE  MAKES  FRANCES  A  GIFT      229 

here  in  my  house,  in  the  very  room  now  occupied  by 
Ward?" 

"Have  you  a  magnifying  glass  handy?  Mine  is  in 
my  case  in  the  buggy." 

Wood  found  his  glass. 

"Now  look  at  that  upper  right-hand  corner.  There 
has  been  an  erasure.  But  if  you  will  scan  it  closely  you 
will  see  the  impress  of  the  date  made  by  the  pencil  is 
sufficiently  legible  after  all,  and  that  it  is  some  days 
after  Mose  left  you;  understand?" 

"Yes,  I  see  that.    But  even  then  I  don't  understand." 

"Why  it's  perfectly  clear.  Ward  sent  the  original 
to  the  district  attorney.  Mose's  name  having  been 
given  he  was  informed  by  the  prosecutor  which  gave 
him  an  opportunity  to  put  a  stop,  in  some  way,  to  fur- 
ther investigation.  You  will  find  Mose  quite  capable 
of  explaining  it  fully  when  the  time  comes." 

After  a  moment,  he  went  on: 

"I  would  rather  nothing  was  said  to  Ward  yet;  he 
is  in  no  condition  for  further  excitement  and  worry. 
By  the  way,  when  he  talked  with  you  at  Kendall's,  was 
nothing  said  about  this  copy  or  the  original  letter?" 

"Not  a  word." 

"Shall  I  keep  this?"  holding  out  the  letter. 

"You  may  as  well  for  the  present.  I  am  going  in 
to  see  my  patients." 

Doctor  Gilbert  was  gone  but  a  few  minutes,  and 
upon  his  return,  said;  — 

"I  am  going  to  Madran  at  once.  My  evening  of- 
fice work  has  been  sadly  neglected  of  late.  The  Elder 
informed  me  that  you  had  seen  him  and  I  am  satisfied 
that  he  knows  nothing  of  our  efforts  or  knowledge  re- 
garding him.  I  was  about  leaving  my  office  when  he 
came,  and  was  returning  when  Kendall's  hired  man 
came  after  me,  for  Mrs.  Kendall." 


23o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Better  stay  to  supper,  Doc." 

"No,  thank  you,  I  must  not.  Say  good  night  for 
me  to  your  wife.  I'm  going  out  this  way,"  he  said 
opening  the  door  into  the  sittingroom,  and  withdrew 
quietly. 

"Come  Doctor  and  Wood,  supper  is  ready,"  Frances 
called  shortly  after  the  doctor  had  left. 

"The  Doc's  gone,  wife.  Said  he  couldn't  possibly 
wait  on  account  of  his  office  work." 

"But  I  wanted  to  see  him,"  she  said. 

"You  should  have  waited,  Frances.  He  saw  you 
run  away,  after  calling  me  those  naughty  names  and 
was  doubtless  embarrassed  at  the  thought  of  meeting 
you.  You  will  have  to  get  along  the  best  you  can  with 
Ward  and  poor  me,"  he  said,  and  embracing  her,  led 
her  to  the  table. 

"So  you  are  back  from  Riverton,  Charley?  What 
luck?"  he  inquired  of  the  young  man  who  had  been 
with  the  Lowton  boys  to  see  the  Surrogate. 

"Pretty  fair,  Judge  Scott  is  going  to  appoint  Dr. 
Gilbert  guardian  for  the  two  boys.  Matt  is  of  age, 
and  the  estate  cannot  be  settled  until  the  youngest  is 
twenty-one.  The  stock  and  farm  should  be  sold.  So 
Judge  Scott  said." 

"Good.  How  are  they  getting  on  with  my  ma- 
chinery?" 

"Fine,  it  will  be  ready  in  a  short  time." 

"I'm  glad  I  can  say  'fine'  to  that,  though  it's  not 
long  since  it  worried  me  more  than  I  care  to  have  re- 
peated. We  will  soon  be  out  of  the  woods,  wife,"  look- 
ing at  Frances  who  sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  table. 
"And  then — what  is  it,  Charley?" 

"Can  we  dedicate  the  factory  with  a  dance?" 

"We  can  and  we  will!"  Frances  spoke  up.  "I'll 
see  to  that.  If  this  is  not  all  a  dream." 


MOSE  MAKES  FRANCES  A  GIFT      23 1 

"Don't  you  worry,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  about  that.  I  met 
Mose  on  my  way  home.  He  told  me  to  tell  you  Mr. 
Bibbins,"  turning  to  the  farmer,  "that  he  was  going 
over  to  the  mill  and  might  remain  there  all  night  with 
the  sawyer." 

"That  so?  I  thought  he  was  coming  here  for  sup- 
per and  to  stay  all  night,  wife?" 

"He  didn't  say  so  positively,  though  I  expected 
him." 

"Anyway,"  Charley  spoke  up,"  he  told  me  to  tell 
you  not  to  come  over  to  the  mill  until  after  the  funeral, 
and  then  to  bring  all  your  teams.  He  thought  you 
might  want  to  get  the  lumber  hauled  before  snow 
came,  and  while  the  roads  are  frozen." 

"Lord,  Frances,  if  people  minded  their  own  busi- 
ness in  this  neighborhood,  you  and  I  would  soon  be 
in  the  poorhouse.  Think  of  it,  and  I  haven't  done  a 
thing  but  sit  down  and  mope—" 

"Mr.  Bibbins." 

"Yes,   Charley?" 

"Mose  told  me  to  tell  you  that  he  was  sending  some 
men  to  make  over  your  ice  house  into  a  dry  kiln,  to  sea- 
son the  lumber.  They  will  be  here  day  after  tomorrow. 
He  is  sending  a  boiler  for  heating  or  drying  or  some- 
thing like  it  to  install  also.  The  men  from  Riverton 
are  going  to  bring  it." 

Farmer  Bibbins  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork,  took 
himself  by  the  hair  and  began  to  pull  it. 

"Oh,  if  I  could  only  sing,"  he  said.  "Won't  some- 
one make  me  mad  before  I  lose  my  senses?" 

"That  isn't  all,  Mr.  Bibbins." 

"Isn't  all,  what  more  can  there  be?" 

"He.  Mose,  hired  the  Lowton  boys  to  help  in  the 
mill,  and  with  the  other  work  on  the  factory,  I  sup- 
pose." 


232  FARMER  BIBBINS 

No  one  was  eating  by  this  time. 

"Anything  more,  Charley?" 

"Yes  sir.  He  said  to  teil  Mrs.  Bibbins  to  look  un- 
der the  lounge  in  the  sittingroom,  before  going  to  bed." 

"Me?  Look  under  the  lounge?"  springing  up  from 
the  table  and  darting  for  the  little  room  where,  stoop- 
ing down,  she  pulled  a  bundle  half  as  large  as  herself 
from  beneath  the  old  divan. 

"Open  it  Wood,  my  hands  shake  so  I  can't."  In 
her  excitement  she  had  not  heard  her  husband  say 
"Come  on  boys,"  and  she  stood  surrounded  by  every 
one  from  the  table,  hoplessly  weak  in  anticipation  of 
what  the  package  contained. 

Wood  cut  the  cord— even  he  could  not  wait  to  untie 
the  knots  — and  laid  the  bundle  on  the  table.  "Open 
it  up,  wife." 

"Oh !  how  lovely,"  she  cried  sinking  on  to  the  lounge. 
Every  one  repeated  her  words  softly  as  she  held  out 
to  Wood  a  full  length  sealskin  coat!  Farmer  Bibbins 
looked  at  the  glossy  sheen  of  the  fur,  then  his  eye 
catching  sight  of  a  small  card,  he  detached  it  and 
read;— 

"To  Frances  Bibbins  from  Mose.  For  your  care 
of  The  Prophet,  who  saved  my  life  in  your  husband's 
barn;  and  who,  if  he  could  speak  to  you  as  he  can  to 
me,  would  say— 'For  saving  my  Master's  health  in 
vour  home.'  " 


CHAPTER  XXI 

MR.  LOWTON'S  BURIAL 


r     f     1  HAT  the  Rev.  Hosiah  Coffee  was  in  "great 
I         form"  when  he  entered  the  lists — and  the 
|        pulpit    of    the     Madran    Free     Methodist 
-A-       Church  with  one  and  and  the  same  move- 
ment—against the  powers  of  darkness,  and  in  defense 
of  his  former  fellow  member,  no  one  who  saw  him 
could  doubt  for  a  moment.     His  leg  action  was  rolling 
rather  than  springy.     Mr.  Simmons,  who  occupied  a 
distant  pew,  characterized  it  as  the  "gate  o'  a  hoss 
born  t'  trot,  but  to't  t'  pace;"  and  because  of  the  per- 
sonality  inferred   this   was   wisely   expressive.      Con- 
tinuing in  a  sort  of  stage  whisper  intended  for  his  im- 
mediate neighbor  alone,  but  heard  over  half  the  church, 
he  said;  —  "The  Elder  is  sure  happy  'bout  suthin',  I  kin 
see  'at.    Ye  don'  spose,  do  ye  Charley,  thet  he's  kinder 
glad  arter  all  'bout  ole  Bo — Mister  Lowton  thar  a 
dyin'?  cos,  ye  kin  see  by  his  gate  'at  he's  sartain  sure 
'bout    suthin'.      Mebbe    'ts    jes'    cos    he's    gotter    all 
fixed  war's  he  goin'  t'  Ian'  the  ole  fellow  in  the  casket." 
The  Elder  was  dressed  scrupulously  clean  and  trim, 
—  for  him.    His  long  double  breasted  frock  coat  evenly 
buttoned,  his  high  collar  and  white  tie,  his  carefully 
brushed  gray  streaked  hair,  lying  flat  and  stiff  along 
the  sides  and  back  of  his  head,  made  to  his  devoted 
flock  when  he  faced  them  from  the  rostrum  an  impres- 
sive ministerial  appearance.     He  opened  the  Bible  at 
the  chapter  selected  for  the  reading,  announced  a  num- 
ber from  his  "Sheaf  of  Wheat"   (the  real  one)   and 
then  proceeded  to  thresh  it  out  in   a  naturally  deep 

233 


234  FARMER  BIBBINS 

sepulchral  voice— slightly  cracked  with  excitement  or 
a  cold,  whichever  it  was— and  with  a  determination 
to  extract  every  kernel  though  it  cost  him  every  tooth  in 
the  cylinder.  After  "rendering"  a  hymn,  he  read  tne 
lesson,  offering  a  prayer  at  its  conclusion.  Another 
hymn  followed  the  petition,  then  the  deluge  of  his 
eloquence. 

"My  dear  Brethren  and  a— ah  Sistren;— You  will 
find  our  text  in  the  Evangelistic  letter  of  the  great 
preacher  of  our  Lord  who  before  he  was  changed  from 
a  Jew  to  a  Gentile  was  known  far  and  wide  as  one 
Saul  of  Tarsus;  but  after  having  put  off  the  Law  was 
with  seldom  frequency  called  Paul  the  Christian,  and 
who  with  a  great  ability,  and  a  meekness  of  constitu- 
tional horror  for  the  hyprocite,  we  must  because  of 
our  own  sacred  calling  and  that  unusual  daypravity  by 
which  we  all  are  so  easily  led  make  much  of  at  this 
time  in  discussing  his  cheerful  message  of  the  said 
hyprocite  who  can  never  win  the  purs — a,  ah,  the  prize 
unless  he  puts  on  himself  by  a  great  indulgence  of  the 
a  — ah— the  full  harness  of  righteousness,  and  starts 
even  and  keeps  with  the  field,  or  he  will  obtain  nothing 
but  the  a — ah  the  flag. 

"It  was  a  happy  consideration,  dear  Brethren  and 
Sistren,  on  this  day  of  joyful  promise  for  a — ah— the 
deceased  but  filled  with  so  great  a  sorrow  for  our  young 
friends  and  the  partner  of  his  life,  that  we  decided  to 
choose  our  text  from  the  pen  of  one,  who  before  he  was 
converted  to  the  teaching  of  our  Lord,  he  never  met  or 
knew,  till  that  Lord  met  him,  who  was  risen  from  the 
tomb  and  ascended  into  the  Holy  Land  on  high  near 
Damascus,  outside  the  gates  of  Jerusalem,  and  struck 
him  in  the  eyes  with  the  light  of  God's  divine  wrath 
and  made  him  blind  to  all  or  any  one,  till  Ananias,  who 
with  Sapphire  his  wife  was  stricken  at  the  feet  of 


MR.  LOWTON'S  BURIAL  235 

Peter,  opened  his  eyes. 

"It  was  a  joyful  consideration  of  these  unhappy 
mourners  sitting  here  on  this  mournful  occasion,  I  say 
that  diverted  me  from  my  usual  custom  of  making  mis- 
erable the  happy  and  filling  the  penitent  with  tears,  and 
the  sad  with  sorrowings,  and  casting  down  those  whom 
God  in  his  loving  wrath  hath  cast  up,  and  made  me 
select,  as  if  by  the  a— a— expiration  of  Heaven,  the 
words  so  familiar  to  us  who  have  seen  many  goes  and 
starts  and  stops  on  the  tracks  of  these  godless  cir- 
cuits where  horses  are  run  by  men  for  money  which 
not  only  is  the  root  of  all  evil,  but  the  spade  which  digs 
it  up  to  distract  it  from  unrighteous  growth,  and  make 
mad  those  who  try  out  the  beasts  that  perish  whether 
they  win  the  heat  or  not;  that  I  decided  to  select  the 
consoling  words  of  that  Hebrew  of  the  Pharisees,  the 
giant  of  little  statute,  who  wrote  the  24th  verse  of 
Chapter  nine  of  the  Epistle  sent  by  a  fleeting  courier 
to  the  Corinthians,  that  he  might  get  there  in  time. 
These,  my  beloved  brethren  and  sistren,  are  the  com- 
forting words  which  put  a  stop  to  all  dickering  with 
the  starters,  who  buy  and  sell  their  place  for  many 
things  including  the  root  of  all  evil,  as  I  have  said 
before,  when  I  started  to  announce  my  text  this  sad  day 
as  we  joyfully  consider  the  glad  tidings  of  great  com- 
fort to  all  people  who  have  lost  the  a— ah— race  we 
have  to  run,  when  our  man  distances  all  the  field. 

"It  gives  me  joy  beyond  the  expression  of  my  unfeel- 
ing words  to  say  our  text  is  written  in  the  a — ah— 24th 
chapter  of  the  Qth  verse  of  the  letter  written  by  the 
converted  Jew  to  the  Gentiles  of  the  Corinthians." 

He  paused,  cleared  his  throat,  and  read;— 

"  'Know  ye  not  that  they  which  run  in  a  race  run  all, 
but  one  receiveth  the  prize.  So  run  that  ye  may  ob- 
tain.' 


236  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"These  are  the  blessed  words  of  the  man  of  Corin- 
thus  to  the  Hebrews  of  whom  by  self-conviction,  he 
was  the  chief  of  all  their  sinners.  Glory  to  God! 
Now  my  dear  Sistren  and  Brethren,  we" — 

But  here  a  whispering  voice  from  a  distant  pew  was 
heard  by  half  the  congregation  to  say;  "Charley,  I'll 
be  gol  derned  'f  he  ain't  off  at  las',  by  gosh."  Which 
voice  when  a  few  hours  later  it  was  raised  to  the  normal 
in  a  description  of  the  funeral  of  Mr.  Lowton,  the 
sermon  and  all  appertaining  thereto,  may  best  describe 
for  us  what  it  then  was  repeating  for  Doctor  Gilbert. 

"Ye  see  Doc  'twas  jest  'bout  the  bes'  general  mix-up 
'fore  gettin'  a  race  started  ye  ever  seen;  fust  thin'  ye 
knew  the  Elder  ud  be  a  comin'  hellitiscoot  down  the 
track,  and  'nen,  bang !  'ud  go  the  gol  dern  gong  sumers 
inside  o'  him  I  spose,  when  he'd  wheel  'round  and  'gin 
on't  all  over  again,  till  I  wuz  so  doggon  flabbergasted 
I  wuzn't  nun  sartain  w'ether  I  wuz  at  Bon's  Berryin' 
or  the  Jeff'son  County  Agricultooral  Fair,  by  gosh;"  at 
which  the  doctor  roared  with  laughter. 

"I  ain't  nun  sartain  needier,"  he  continued  when 
quiet  was  restored  in  the  office,  "cum  to  think  on't 
w'ether  it's  jest  my  nateral  superstriction  or  ekally  na- 
teral  cussedness,  but  I'll  be  gol  derned  'f  I  knows  now 
w'ether  the  Elder  lef  Mr.  Lowton  in  one  place  or  to- 
ther;  or  w'ether  he's  a  goin'  on't  yet,  but  'f  eny  ary 
driver  I've  seen  trottin'  horses  tuk  ez  much  time  t'  git 
'round  the  trac'  arter  he'd  a  gotten  started  ez  the  El- 
der did,  I  bet  all  the  cookies  Lista  ever  made  'at  the 
jedge  'ud  hafter  sen'  sum  hos'ler  'round  the  trac'  back- 
erd  t'  fin'  whar-in-ell  he'd  a  gon'.  Say  Doc,  Farmer 
Bibbins  an'  his  wife  sat  thar  ez  kool  and  solum  threw 
the  hull  gol  dern  lingo  ez  if  they  wuz  a  takin'  on't 
all  in  fer  genyuine  gospel,  an'  I  wuz  thinkin'  all  the 
time  'f  any  preacher  s'ud  say  eny  sech  doggon  rot  'bout 


MR.  LOWTON'S  BURIAL  237 

me  when  I  kick  the  bucket,  I'd  git  outer  my  casket  an' 
cum  purty  nigh  raisin'  h — allefax  'ith  the  solumnities." 
He  waited  a  moment:  "I  mus'  be  a  purty  Bird;  w'y  I 
ain't  no  more  nor  a  gol  dern  barn  swaller,  thinkin'  such 
tho'ts  in  meetin',"  he  said  laughing  in  disgust  at  him- 
self. 

"But  Doc,  what  in  tunket  ye  goin'  t'  do  'bout  yer 
tho'ts  when  er  man  like  the  Elder  thar  ez  a  tryin'  fer 
t'  say  thin's  'bout  'at  air  Race  o'  Life,  which  Lista 
read  t'  me  letter  times,  an'  which  ez  jest  ez  bootiful  an' 
full  o'  meanin'  an'  love  an'  lessons  fer  us  farmers  ez 
the  Man  o'  Galilee  wuz  full  o'  love  fer  every  chile  o' 
Adam  'at  wuz  ever  borned !  An'  whatter  ye  goin'  do 
'ith  yer  tho'ts  when  a  gol  dern  ole  wolf  like  him  ez  a 
sayin'  thin's  'bout  the  wrath  o'  God-a-mighty  when 
His  O'ny  Son,  who  orter  knowed  'bout  ez  much  'bout 
what  he  thinks  ez  Mister  Coffee,  never  says  a  word 
'at  don'  show  he's  jest  ez  em'ty  o'  wrath  an'  torments 
an'  damnashun  fer  us  fellers  ez  the  Elder  ez  o'  the 
Law  o'  eny  gol  dern  thin'  but  a  hoss-trade!" 

Dr.  Gilbert's  smile  was  veiled  by  a  profound  feel- 
ing of  respect  for  the  illiterate  Bert,  whose  illiteracy 
was  lost  in  the  splendidly  comprehensive  understanding 
of  the  philosophy  of  life  and  love  as  viewed  by  the 
Man  of  Nazareth. 

"I  am  not  going  to  do  anything,  Bert.  Our  thoughts 
are  very  largely  the  result  of  our  practice.  They  are 
like  spirit  winds  impelled  by  powers  quite  as  intang- 
ible as  they  are  invisible.  You  have  watched  fields 
of  grain  gently  undulating  under  the  swaying  air  cur- 
rents which  pass  above  and  through  them?  Yes?  As 
the  Master  of  Life  said;  they,  the  winds,  come  from 
whence  no  man  knows  and  go  whither  no  man  can  tell. 
Nevertheless  they  are  a  perfectly  natural  atmospheric 
result  of  other  perfectly  natural  subterranean  or  other 


238  FARMER  BIBBINS 

conditions.  What  causes  those  conditions,  whatever 
force  or  power  operates  from  unknown  depths  or  per- 
haps from  equally  unknown  heights,  we  may  not  know, 
though  personally  I  am  of  the  belief  that  their  primal 
cause  is  electrical  in  nature." 

He  was  pacing  back  and  forth  across  his  office  floor 
while  speaking. 

"However  that  may  be,  we  have  winds,  winds  of 
different  degrees;  that  is,  some  are  fierce  and  rough 
fairly  scourging  where  they  strike,  and  some  are  as 
gentle  and  soft  as  a  caress.  But  of  whatever  degree 
or  kind,  they  are  a  perfectly  natural  expression  of  the 
degree  of  the  force  or  power  impelling  them.  It  is 
the  same  with  our  thoughts;  they  are  quite  as  natural- 
ly the  result  of  our  life  and  practice— conduct  and  hab- 
it—as are  the  winds  that  blow.  Nor  can  we  explain 
their  source  or  origin  other  than  to  say  that  they  rise 
and  fall  to  the  measure  of  whatever  power  gives  them 
impetus.  Do  you  follow  me,  Bert?" 

"Sure,  I  ain't  zackly  sure  nun  allus  w'ether  I'm  un- 
der the  waggin  or  on  one  side  on  't,  or  jes'  be'ind,  but 
I'm  sumers  round  the  wheels,  all  right;  go  ahead, 
Doc." 

The  doctor  laughed  and  continued;  "You  asked: 
What  is  to  be  done  with  our  thoughts  ?  And  I  say  I  am 
going  to  do  nothing  with  mine,  save  to  make  the  best 
use  of  them  I  know  how.  Let  me  ask  you  to  look  once 
more  at  the  grain  field  where  a  moderate  wind  is  sway- 
ing every  straw;  if  it  were  not  for  that  wind  stirring 
the  stem  and  thereby  loosening  the  soil  about  the  roots, 
the  roots  would  never  reach  below  the  mere  shell  or 
crust  of  the  soil.  But  when  the  stem  or  stalk  or  bush 
or  tree,  whatever  grows  from  the  soil,  is  bent  and  bow- 
ed and  swayed  by  the  wind  that  is  God's  method  of 
giving  the  roots  an  opportunity  to  reach  lower— get  a 


MR.  LOWTON'S  BURIAL  239 

better  hold  on  the  earth— and  find  the  greater  nourish- 
ment which  it  needs  for  its  ever-increasing  growth. 

"Of  course,"  he  went  on  after  giving  Bert  a  mo- 
ment to  "git  under  the  waggin,"  — "not  every  wind  is 
moderate  and  visibly  beneficial  to  a  field  of  grain.  But 
with  no  wind  at  all  nothing  would  greatly  flourish.  If 
a  wind  is  destructive,  we  have  to  overcome  whatever 
disaster  it  causes  in  the  best  way  our  intelligence  sug- 
gests. It  is  the  same  with  thought.  Not  every  thought 
is  good,  or  moderate,  or  beneficial.  But  the  average 
thought  is.  Not  every  thought  of  the  cleanest,  purest, 
man  and  woman,  is  clean,  pure  and  wholesome,  though 
the  reason  for  that  is  largely  a  matter  of  locality,  of 
time  and  place.  For  example:  when  you  came  here 
your  thoughts  were  disgusting,  somewhat  angry,  the 
result  of  those  spiritually  destructive  winds  which  the 
sermon  aroused  in  opposition  to  your  natural  belief  in 
the  love  and  beauty  of  Jesus  Christ's  life  and  teaching, 
which  Paul  was  illustrating  to  the  Corinthians.  Now 
if  your  conduct  and  habit  of  life  were  not  opposed  to 
such  sermons  and  to  the  man  who  preached  them,  you 
would  have  seen  nothing  belittling  to  the  Man  of  Gali- 
lee ;  nothing  out  of  keeping  with  His  teachings  in  what 
you  heard  today.  Naturally,  I  am  sure,  though  I  do 
not  intend  a  flattery,  your  sense  of  justice,  mercy,  and 
truth,  is  arrayed  on  the  side  of  things  opposed  by  the 
Elder.  Else  you  would  never  have  known  that  spirit 
wind  which  swayed  you  and  disturbed  the  soil  from 
which  your  sense  of  those  things  rises,  and  you  would 
have  been  satisfied  with  him,  and  yourself,  which  latter 
state  would  have  been  worst  of  all.  But  you  were 
not;  you  were  angry— disgusted  not  merely  with  the 
man  and  what  he  said  but  with  yourself.  Had  you 
not  been  with  yourself  first,  you  would  not  have  been 
angry  with  him  at  all.  For  disgust  is  what  you  might 


24o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

call  the  feeling  of  the  root,  if  it  has  feeling  when  dis- 
turbed by  the  wind.  It  was  your  self-disgust,  Bert, 
though  you  may  not  have  liked  the  feeling  any  more 
than  the  root  likes  disturbance,  which  showed  you 
that  the  roots  of  your  sense  of  justice,  mercy,  truth, 
were  reaching  down  deeper  into  the  soil  of  your  being 
and  getting  a  firmer  hold  upon  your  personality.  That 
proves  to  me  that  you  are  a  far  better  man  with  bet- 
ter possibilities  of  becoming  a  still  better  man,  solely 
because  when  your  better  thoughts  of  God,  His  Son, 
our  Brother— our  Elder  Brother,  Bert— were  out- 
raged, you  knew  of  it  though  you  did  not  know  the 
why  nor  the  wherefore." 

"To  come  back  again  to  the  wind  which  bloweth 
whence  no  man  knows  even  though  he  feels  it 
and  knows  it  does  blow,  you  were  being  disturbed  by  a 
primal  force  and  in  recognizing  the  disturbance  you 
are  to  be  stronger  than  ever  in  your  sense  of  what  is 
just,  solely  because  of  the  new  depth  in  thought  which 
you  have  found.  Have  I  made  myself  clear,  Bert?" 

"Ez  clar  as  sunlight  an'  a'most  as  dazzlin'  too,  by 
gosh !" 

"I  am  afraid  I  am  more  or  less  dazzled  myself, 
Bert;  but  I'm  through  now.  There's  someone  at  the 
outer  door,"  listening  attentively,  "and  from  the  ring- 
ing of  the  bell  I  judge  it  is  Farmer  Bibbins.  Wait,  let 
me  see;  a,  ha,  I  thought  so.  Come  in  Mrs.  Bibbins, 
you  may  bring  your  little  boy  in,  he  will  not  disturb  me 
I  am  sure,  if  you  will  tell  him  he  must  not  touch  the 
bottles  and  instruments,"  laughingly  greeting  his 
friends. 

"Don't  go,  Mr.  Simmons,  I'll  have  Tolly  put  the 
kettle  on,  and  we'll  all  have  tea,'  just  like  the  old  song. 
Mrs.  Bates'  name  is  Mary,  which  is  English  for  Polly, 
you  know,"  turning  to  Mrs.  Bibbins  and  touching  the 


MR.  LOWTON'S  BURIAL  241 

button  under  his  desk. 

"Mrs.  Bates,"  he  said  when  she  appeared,  "will  you 
make  us  some  tea— no  wait,  pardon  me  Mrs.  Bibbins, 
what  shall  it  be?" 

"Tea  sounds  good  to  me,  Doctor." 

"Won't  you  have  toast  or  something  else  with  it?" 

"Yes,  if  Mrs.  Bates  doesn't  mind,  a  slice  of  toast 
would  be  just  lovely,  especially  if  you  are  not  attempt- 
ing any  'experiments'  with  us,"  laughing. 

"Not  for  the  world.  Come  Wood,  cheer  up;  you 
act  as  if  you  had  been  to  a  funeral." 

"Do  I?  Well  perhaps  I  have,  I  am  not  sure.  I 
certainly  have  been  to  a  race  of  some  kind,  I  only  wish 
I  knew  who  won,  Mr.  Lowton  or — the  driver.  What 
did  you  think  of  it,  Bert?  Who  had  the  heat?  But 
good  heavens,  Doc,"  not  waiting  for  Bert's  reply,  "it 
makes  me  sick  to  speak  of  it  at  all,  and  I  can't  speak 
of  it  seriously  without  anger.  And  it  makes  me  sicker 
yet  when  I  think  of  hearing  men  like  some  of  them 
who,  on  coming  out,  commented  like  this;  —  'Great  sar- 
mon'  — 'Fine  fun'ral'  — 'The  Elder  outdid  himself,' 
and  a  lot  more  just  such  rot.  Why,  Doc,  it  was  a 
sacrilege  from  beginning  to  end.  Wasn't  it,  Bert?" 

"Scuse  me,  but  'at  depen's,  Farmer  Bibbins,  fer  ye 
see  sum  on  'em  ment  it,  an'  sum  on  'em  didn'.  'F  they 
did,  an'  didn'  know  no  better  'nen  I  wudn't  jes'  like  t' 
call  it  sakrelig'.  But  if  they  knowed  better— which 
mos'  on  'em  didn'— an'  acted  like  they  'greed  t'  the 
hull  bizness,  w'y  'twas  a  gol  dern  sight  mor  'n  sak- 
relig', 'at  leas'  'at's  the  way  I  look  on  't." 

"You're  right,  Bert.  I'm  so  ashamed  of  myself 
when  I  think  of  it,  and  so  disgusted  with  myself  for 
thinking  of  it  at  all  that  I  would  like  to  sing— almost," 
trying  to  laugh  but  failing. 

"Don'  ye  'gin  on  't  now,  cos  the  Doc  here  hez  jes' 


242  FARMER  BIBBINS 

been  a  preachin'  on  'nat  very  subjec'  mighty  good, 
an'  I'm  a  feelin'— " 

"What  subject,  Mr.  Simmons?  I  never  heard  Doc- 
tor Gilbert  preach  and  to  be  frank  I  didn't  suppose 
he  could.  I  always  believed  one  had  to  be  a  great 
student  of  the  Bible  to  be  a  preacher  until  I  heard  Mr. 
Coffee  today."  Mrs.  Bibbins  broke  in— "And  I'm  sure, 
Doctor  Gilbert,  never  studies  anything  outside  of  ex- 
perimental work  in  his  office,"  while  the  doctor  vainly 
protested. 

"Mrs.  Bibbins,  our  young  friend  here  is  mistaken 
about  my  preaching,  I  never  do.  I  sometimes  talk  too 
much,  and  seldom  practice  except  with  my  patients." 

"But  won't  you  sometime  talk  for  me,  Doctor, 
please?" 

"Sometime." 

"The  first  opportunity?" 

"Yes,  the  first  opportunity,  perhaps  tonight  if  the 
chance  is  offered.  I  expect  to  see  you  and  perhaps  stay- 
all  night  if  you  can  put  me  up  somewhere." 

"It  will  be  ever  so  good  of  you  to  come." 

"But  you  haven't  told  me  the  subject,  Bert."  said 
Mrs.  Bibbins,  turning  to  Mr.  Simmons.  "I  should  like 
to  know  at  least  the  text  of  his  sermon." 

"Twant  no  race,  Mrs.  Bibbins,"  Bert  replied. 
"  'Twas  on  'nat  subject  Farmer  Bibbins  ies'  spoke 
'bout,  an'  he  sure  had  my  tongue  out  tryin'  t'  keep  up. 
He  wuz  a  blowin'  hard  and  sof  like,  till  I  didn'  know 
w'ether  I  wuz  an'  evenin'  zefer  a  fannin'  sum  lady's 
cheek,  'r  a  ciklone  tearin'  up  stumps  an'  stones — an' 
say,  gol  dern  it,  'scuse  me  Mrs.  Bibbins,  but  'at  air 
coat  o'  yourn  sure  got  me  stradlin'  the  fence  this  time. 
Geewhillikin,  look  at  't  Doc,  at  Mrs.  Bibbins'  coat," 
and  the  Bird  stood  with  open  mouth,  staring  in  amaze- 
ment at  Mose's  gift. 


MR.  LOWTON'S  BURIAL  243 

"I  noticed  it,  Mr.  Simmons.  It's  perfectly  beau- 
tiful, and  almost  in  keeping  with  the  wearer,  if  Farmer 
Bibbins  will  pardon  me.  It  is  stunning,  simply  stun- 
ning, and  you  make  a  charming  picture  in  it,  one  good 
for  every  one  to  look  at.  Doesn't  she,  Mr.  Simmons?" 
turning  from  the  blushing,  sweet  faced  woman. 

'T  sure  does.  Lord  'f  I  cud  see  Lista  in  a  fur  coat 
like  'at,  wudn't  I  warble?  Wall,  I  dunno  ez  I  wud 
neether  cum  to  think  on  't;  cos  ye  see  Mrs.  Bibbins  'f 
Lista  s'ud  buy  a  coat  like  'at  'twud  sure  bust  me  open 
wide  to  settle;  cos  ye  see  I  ain't  goin'  t'  make  nothin' 
out  o'  other  folkses  milk,"  slapping  Farmer  Bibbins  on 
the  back.  "Say,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  ye'll  'scuse  me,  but  I'll 
bet  one  o'  Lista's  cookies,  I  kin  tell  ye  whar  ye  got  it?" 

"Try  it  Bert;  it's  no  secret  though  no  one  but  Wood 
and  our  help  know." 

"Wai,  I  hope  I  ain't  a  buttin'  in  whar  I'm  out  o' 
place  but  I'll  be  gol  derned,  'scuse  be,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  if 
I  don'  b'leve  it's  the  fust  profits  out  o'  'nat  air  Hos- 
spittle  skeme  I  hearn  'bout." 

"Right,  Bert;  it  was  a  remembrance  from  the  first 
patient  to  the  head  nurse  of  the  institution.  Doctor 
Gilbert,  what  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"I  think  it's  fine.  Fine  for  the  head-nurse,  fine  for 
her  husband,  fine  for  the  institution,  and  finest  of  all— 
you  will  understand — ?  of  the  Jew!  But  here  is  Mrs. 
Bates.  After  our  lunch  I'm  going  to  drive  into  the 
country  over  Tremain  way,  and  then  around  to  the 
Kendall's  and  when  I  return  I'm  coming  to  call  at 
Farmer  Bibbins  and  if  Mrs.  Bibbins  will  put  me  on  the 
feather-bed,  she  may  put  the  bed  anywhere  she 
pleases,  for  I  shall  remain  the  night  with  you,  in  the 
morning  going  on  to  Riverton  with  the  Lowton  boys. 
Did  you  know  that  I  am  to  stand  'in  loco  pareritis !'  to 
the  two  minors?  Judge  Scott  has  so  arranged  and  I 


244  FARMER  BIBBINS 

rather  suspect  that  your  husband  there  is  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it." 

"Am  I  right,  Farmer  Bibbins?" 

"Your  certainly  are,  for  once,  Doc." 

"Good,  you  are  at  the  bottom.  So  be  it.  You  shall 
bear  the  full  weight,  for  I  am  at  the  top  for  once,  and 
I  weigh  just  two — wait!  I'll  weigh  you  all.  Come 
Mrs.  Bibbins,  you  first,  you  shall  be  the  first  one  to 
stand  on  these  scales  since  they  were  placed  in  my  of- 
fice. They  were  only  set  up  this  morning." 

Mrs.  Bibbins  removed  the  coat  and  stepped  to  the 
platform. 

"127  pounds  and  your  height  is  5  feet  4  inches,  ex- 
act. Your  husband  does  not  know  it  dear  Madam,  but 
you  are  as  nearly  right  physicially  as  you  are  other- 
wise." 

"Oh,  Doctor,  you  will  spoil  me  saying  such  lovely 
things  to  me.  Now  Wood,  your  turn  next." 

Wood  weighed  212  pounds,  Bert  220,  and  Doctor 
Gilbert  216. 

"How  cute  you  three  little  boys  would  look  in  pina- 
fores, only  216  pounds  apiece  on  the  average,  and  my 
little  boy  is  the  smallest.  You  poor,  poor,  little  lambs ! 
Bert,  you  must  bring  Mrs.  Simmons  over  tonight,  and 
we  will  make  fudge  for  you  for  being  so  nice  and  cute; 
you  little  kids,  only  216  pounds  apiece." 

"Here  Madam,  you  are  not  going  to  rob  Bert  of 
four  pounds  just  for  the  sake  of  making  something 
that  looks  like  a  man  out  of  that  fellow,"  pointing  to 
Farmer  Bibbins.  "It  isn't  fair.  He's  not  in  our  class, 
not  for  a  minute,  is  he  Bert?" 

But  Frances  put  a  stop  to  further  banter  by  pouring 
the  tea  and  calling:— 

"Come  children,"  and  then  to  the  astonishment  of 
the  older  woman  adding.  "Do  you  tie  their  bibs  un- 


MR.  LOWTON'S  BURIAL  245 

der  their  chins  for  lunch,  Mrs.  Bates,  or  do  they  only 
wear  them  at  dinner?"  at  which  Mrs.  Bates  tried  to 
laugh  but  her  eye  was  caught  by  the  sealskin  coat  at  the 
moment,  which  changed  the  attempt  into  a  snort  of 
amazement  and  suddenly  she  vanished. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  DISTRICT  ATTORNEY  RECEIVES  A  VISIT 


I 


next  morning  the  teams  began  hauling 
the  lumber  for  the  factory  from  the  saw- 
mill to  the  Bibbins  yard.  The  men  whom 
Mose  sent  to  turn  the  ice  house  into  a  dry- 
kiln  and  install  the  heater  came  and  set  about  their 
task. 

Dr.  Gilbert  had  a  long  visit  with  Ward,  whose  phy- 
sical condition  was  rapidly  improving  in  spite  of  his 
worrying;  and  after  giving  a  few  simple  directions  to 
Mrs.  Bibbins  for  the  further  care  of  her  patients,  he 
started  with  Wood  for  Riverton.  The  legal  for- 
malities in  connection  with  the  guardianship  of  the 
Lowton  minors  and  the  settlement  of  the  estate  by  Dr. 
Gilbert  were  soon  adjusted.  On  account  of  the  cold 
weather  an  early  date  was  fixed  for  the  sale  of  the 
live  stock,  and  an  arrangement  made  with  the  holder 
of  the  mortgage  by  which  Farmer  Bibbins  would  come 
into  possession  of  the  farm  in  due  time.  This  was  very 
pleasing  to  the  young  Lowtons  who  had  learned  to 
respect  and  trust  Farmer  Bibbins  quite  as  sincerely  as 
their  father  had  always  disliked  him. 

When  Wood  and  the  doctor  returned  from  the  city, 
the  latter  stopped  just  long  enough  to  see  his  patients 
and  Frances  thought  he  drove  on  to  Madran  sooner 
then  was  necessary.  He  seemed  in  great  haste  to  be 
on  his  way,  and  he  was. 

Unknown  to  Wood,  while  they  were  in  the  city  he 
had  called  upon  the  district  attorney  to  learn,  if  it  were 
possible,  what  could  be  done  with  the  matter  so  deeply 

246 


DISTRICT  ATTORNEY  VISITED      247 

concerning  Ward.  What  he  had  found  greatly  dis- 
tressed him.  A  warrant  for  the  young  man's  arrest 
had  been  sworn  out  by  somebody,  and  was  being  held 
in  abeyance  because  the  prosecutor  knew  of  the  ac- 
cident to  the  youth  and  his  present  helpless  condition. 
He  also  learned  that  it  was  not  issued  until  the  day 
following  his  fall  in  the  Kendall  barn,  a  fact  somewhat 
interfering  with  the  theories  in  which  he  believed 
Farmer  Bibbins  coincided.  As  the  warrant  could  not 
be  served  for  sometime,  he  had  himself  sworn  in  as  an 
officer  of  the  court,  and  became  legally  responsible  for 
the  young  man's  appearance  when  he  could  be  safely 
moved.  But  the  warrant  itself  was  withheld. 

Who  could  have  done  it?  That  was  the  question 
uppermost  in  the  doctor's  thoughts  as  he  drove  home 
that  afternoon.  He  forgot  his  haste,  though  none  of  his 
calls  for  the  day  were  done,  and  while  Bonny  walked 
along,  the  doctor,  quite  oblivious  of  surrounding,  talk- 
ed to  himself,  as  was  his  habit. 

"Now  who  on  earth  could  have  done  that?"  he  re- 
peatedly asked  himself.  "If  I  thought  it  were  the 
Elder,  or  if  I  knew  it  were  he— for  I  already  think 
so— my  late  experiment  with  him  would  be  a  kinder- 
garten affair  compared  with  the  next  one.  It  can't  be 
though.  He  wouldn't  dare.  He  is  too  closely  con- 
cerned with  the  injury  to  Mose  and  the  one  to  Ward 
as  well.  No  it  is  not  the  Elder  this  time.  Then  who 
could  it  have  been?  Matt?  Hardly,  no,  not  Matt. 
It  was  not  until  after  Ward  was  taken  to  his  aunt's, 
and  so  could  not  have  been  the  result  of  Ward's  own 
letter,  the  copy  of  which  Bibbins  has  in  his  possession. 
Perhaps  after  all,  that  one  is  the  original  which  for 
some  reason  or  other  he  did  not  send.  I'd  give  the 
Lowton  boys  another  two  hundred  just  to  know  the 
whole  truth  of  it.  However  I  have  him  under  my  care 


248  FARMER  BIBBINS 

in  a  two-fold  sense,  now;  and  as  his  physician  I  shall 
not  consent  to  his  removal,  in  other  words  his  arrest, 
if  I  have  to  break  the  other  leg  to  keep  him  with  his 
aunt.  That  boy  is  not  going  to  prison,  not  if  I  have  to 
charge  the  Elder  with  the  crime  in  public.  It  would 
only  serve  him  right  if  I  did,  and  there  is  enough  evi- 
dence to  convict  the  old — " 

His  soliloquy  was  abruptly  terminated  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  cart,  resplendent  in  paint  and  varnish, 
preceded  over  the  rise  of  the  road  ahead  by  a  joyously 
barking  fox  terrier. 

"Es  Selamu'  Eleikum"  he  greeted  the  peddler. 

"Eleikum  es  Selamu' ,  Dr.  Gilbert.  But  how  know 
you  the  present  tongue  of  my  native  land?  Your 
knowledge  is  indeed  great  if  you  speak  the  language 
which  is  older  than  that  of  my  own  people,  with  all  the 
other  things  you  know." 

"I  don't  speak  it,  Mose,  and  my  knowledge  of  every- 
thing else  is  quite  as  limited.  I  happen  to  know  the 
Arab  greeting,  and  a  compound  fracture  from  a  bat 
on  the  head,  and  that's  all." 

"There  are  few  who  know  how  little  they  know," 
replied  the  Jew  gravely,  "and  only  the  learned  know 
that.  Tell  me,  are  you  returning  to  your  office?  I 
must  speak  with  you.  I  was  on  my  way  to  Farmer 
Bippins  to  find  you.  Your  housekeeper  informed  me 
that  you  had  been  there  since  last  evening." 

"My  housekeeper?    She  didn't  know  where  I  was!" 

"The  minister  informed  her,  she  said." 

"The  minister?     Mr.   Coffee?" 

"No  other,  Dr.  Gilbert." 

"How  in  the  name  of  Allah  did  he  know?  I  told 
no  one  but  Mr.  Simmons.  Save  the  Bibbins  house- 
hold not  another  person  on  earth  was  informed  regard- 
ing my  movements." 


249 

"I  don't  know  that,  Dr.  Gilbert,  but  she  told  me  nev- 
ertheless. She  also  told  me  that  you  were  in  Riverton 
today,  and  would  return  to  the  Bippins  farm  as  you 
and  Farmer  Bippins  went  to  the  city  together,  all  of 
which  she  learned  from  Mr.  Coffee.  It  is  not  of  that 
I  wish  to  speak  however.  I  must  talk  with  you  and 
at  once  for  I  am  sorely  troubled.  If  you  can  give  me 
the  time  this  evening  I  will  come  to  your  office,  also 
should  I  be  glad  if  I  might  bring  Farmer  Bippins  and 
Mr.  Simmons.  I  have  much  to  say  and  Mr.  Simmons 
is  wise  though  illiterate.  If  his  conversation  is  crude, 
his  intelligence  is  magnificent.  May  I  bring  them  both 
tonight,  at  nine  o'clock?" 

"I  don't  see  how  I  can  arrange  it,  Mose.  I  have 
to  go  to  Tremains,  and  to  the  Corners,  besides  at- 
tending to  my  office  hours  which  have  been  woefully 
neglected  of  late.  Would  tomorrow  morning  at  ten 
answer?  I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Goldsborough,  but  I  must 
see  my  sick  people  tonight  and  save  for  an  hour  or  so 
at  the  office,  I  shall  be  on  the  road  most  of  the  time 
from  now  till  then." 

"May  I,  without  offence,  ask  you  a  question,  Dr. 
Gilbert?" 

"Certainly,  as  many  as  you  like." 

"Who  swore  out  the  warrant  for  Ward  Ralph?" 

"I  don't  know.  How  did  you  hear  of  it?"  aston- 
ished. 

"I  went  to  the  district  attorney  yesterday  to  do  it 
myself,  but  found  someone  had  already  done  so.  I 
could  not  learn  who  did  it,  nor  upon  what  charge." 

"You  went?  Mose,  are  you  crazy?  How  could 
you,  even  if  the  boy  were  guilty  after  all  Frances  and 
Wood  did  for  you  ?  You  astonish  me,  Mose,  I  thought 
—that  sealskin  coat  you  know—  you  — " 

"Dr.  Gilbert,  I  was  doing  it  to  save  that  young  man, 


250  FARMER  BIBBINS 

to  save  Farmer  Bippins,  and  his  good  wife  also,"  he 
added. 

"To  save  them?    I  don't  understand  you." 

"Let  me  explain.  You  must  remember  that  I  am 
more  deeply  interested  in  what  occurred  than  any  one, 
not  excepting  the  boy  with  the  broken  leg.  Unfor- 
tunately he  wrote  a  letter.  It  complicated  matters 
greatly.  To  save  him,  to  save  the  others,  I  asked  the 
county  prosecutor  to  let  me  swear  out  a  warrant  and 
then  have  him  placed  under  your  care  legally  as  he  is 
already  professionally.  The  first  part  was  done,  and 
the  other  could  be  he  told  me.  You  were  willing,  were 
you  not?  It  was  suggested  by  the  one  who  swore  out 
the  warrant." 

"Yes,  Mose,  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  would  like  to 
shake  your  hand  but  I  can't  reach  you.  What  was  the 
motive  of  the  warrant?  Had  Elder  Coffee  anything 
to  do  with  it?" 

"No,  Dr.  Gilbert,  nothing  whatever,  but  he  would 
have  had  had  not  some  friend  forestalled  him  as  well 
as  us." 

"Some  friend,  you  say." 

"Yes,  a  friend.  Whoever  swore  out  the  warrant 
was  actuated  by  the  same  reason  that  sent  me.  I  don't 
know,  I  don't  understand  it.  But  I  do  know  and  un- 
derstand all  the  rest.  You  see,  Dr.  Gilbert,  it  was  I 
who  was  struck,  and  I  know;  so  does  one  other,  but 
not  Ward,"  he  added.  "Now  it  is  too  cold  to  talk 
longer.  I  will  see  you  at  Farmer  Bippins  tomorrow 
morning  at  ten.  Ledacieda  Lazvafa,"  he  said  and 
drove  on. 

"Laivafa  Ledacieda,"  Dr.  Gilbert  replied. 

"Well,"  said  Dr.  Gilbert  to  himself  as  he  drove  on, 
"I'd  like  to  know  what  that  old  Jew  does,  and  what 
I  don't.  Here  I've  been  cudgelling  my  poor  brain 


DISTRICT  ATTORNEY  VISITED      251 

for  weeks  trying  to  find  a  word  he  wouldn't  understand, 
and  fool  that  I  am,  I've  been  practicing  all  that  time 
on  a  few  words  from  his  native  tongue,"  with  a  good- 
natured  laugh  at  his  own  simplicity. 

"He  is  also  possessed  of  all  the  Elder  knows  about 
my  actions;  of  all  the  district  attorney  knows  about 
Ward  except  the  originator  of  the  warrant,  and  of  all 
that  Bert  and  Wood  and  myself  know.  Besides,  he 
knows  every  known  tongue,  I'm  firmly  convinced.  And 
he  a  peddler !  Driving  around  the  country  with  a 
cart,  appropriately  painted  for  a  stock  of  Joseph's 
coats;  witk  a  real  prophet  for  a  companion!  Doc'  you 
stick  to  pills  and  your  own  cheap  philosophy.  These 
preachers  and  peddlers  and  farmers  are  too  much  for 
you  I" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

IN  WHICH  MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE 

AT  half  after  nine  the  following  morning, 
Mr.  Simmons  was  tying  his  horse  in  the 
Bibbins  barn,  and  was  adjusting  the  stable 
blanket  around  the  animal's  head  when  the 
door  rolled  back  and  Dr.  Gilbert  led  Bonny  on  to  the 
floor.  Neither  Farmer  Bibbins  nor  any  of  his  men 
were  about.  They  had  no  more  than  passed  the  time 
of  day  when  Mose,  who  had  seen  the  men  drive  into 
the  yard  only  a  minute  or  two  apart,  came  into  the  barn 
through  the  same  entrance. 

"Good  morning,  gentlemen,"  shaking  hands  with 
them.  "I  hope  this  weather  continues  a  few  more 
days,  then  the  snow  may  come  as  thick  and  fast  as 
the  weather  man  sees  fit  to  send  it.  But  it's  unusually 
cold,  isn't  it?  Here,  Prophet,  climb  up  to  your  bed, 
that's  a  good  friend.  You  see,  gentlemen,  that  is  the 
Prophet's  particular  compartment,"  pointing  to  a 
warmly  lined  nook  under  the  seat  where  a  heavy  felt 
curtain  closed  the  opening  through  which  the  dog 
crawled.  "I  gave  that  half  to  my  dog,  and  this  is  my 
strong  box,"  indicating  the  closed  space  under  the  other 
half  of  the  seat.  "Here  I  store  my  books  and  jewelry, 
and  there  the  Prophet  lies  close  by  to  keep  them  safe." 

"I  want  to  investigate  that  wagon  thoroughly  some 
day,  Mose,  it's  too  cold  this  morning.  Where's  Farm- 
er Bibbins?" 

"He  is  with  his  wife  and  Ward." 

"All  right,  let's  go  to  the  house." 

The  four  men,  Dr.  Gilbert,  Bert,  Mose,  and  Wood, 

252 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          253 

and  Frances  with  them,  were  sitting  by  the  kitchen 
fire-place. 

"Your  kitchen  has  already  become  a  sort  of  Town 
Hall,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  and  is  rapidly  assuming  the  air  of 
a  State  Council  Chamber.  If  things  keep  up,  ere 
long  it  will  have  the  air  of  an  International  Temple  of 
Peace.  In  fact  I  think  it  is  already  beginning  to  ac- 
quire it,  since  we  have  here  a  man  who  was  born  in 
Syria,  has  lived  and  is  now  wanted  in  Russia,  and  is 
about  the  most  thorough  American  in  this  august  as- 
sembly. Mose,  it's  up  to  you  to  address  the  queen  of 
the  palace  on  the  purpose  of  this  council,  while  we, 
her  vassals,  sit  in  silence  and  the  smoke  of  this  herb 
which  she  has  ordered  us  to  burn  during  a  part  of  this 
session.  Kindly  proceed!" 

Dr.  Gilbert  gravely  bowed  to  Frances,  whose  smiles 
were  infecting  all  but  the  serious  Jew,  and  then  sat 
down. 

"It  is  to  you,  dear  lady,  I  am  ordered  to  speak,  and 
the  privilege  is  my  honor,  I  assure  you.  I  do  not  care 
to  recall  much  of  what  has  happened  to  me  here  on 
your  estate,  though  I  must  repeat  a  few  of  the  inci- 
dents to  make  clear  the  story.  You,  and  those  present, 
probably  know  more  of  the— shall  I  call  it  the  second 
chapter?— and  its  events  from  the  time  your  husband 
found  me  lying  on  the  barn  floor,  than  I  do.  There  is 
little  required  to  say  of  that  second  period  so  I  will  go 
on  to  the  next,  and  third." 

"When  I  left  here  with  Charles— a  splendid  young 
man  is  Charles  — for  Riverton  I  was  in  darkness  like 
that  of  Egypt  about  some,  I  might  say  many,  of  the 
points  since  cleared  up  by  recent  investigation  touch- 
ing: rny  injury  and  other  matters.  To  make  all  plain  I 
shall  classify  the  incidents  of  my  story.  First  I  found 
the  surgeon  who  assisted  you,  Dr.  Gilbert,  in  the  oper- 


254  FARMER  BIBBINS 

ation  which  Mr.  Coffee  has  on  several  occasions  in- 
sisted on  calling  the  removal  of  my  skull  bone!  And 
there  are  times — not  that  the  operation  was  not  per- 
fectly successful  for  I  have  been  unusually  well  and  as 
strong  mentally  as  ever— when  I  think  Mr.  Coffee 
has  been  near  the  truth;  provided  I  had  such  a  bone 
to  remove."  This  was  his  only  attempt  at  humor. 

"The  surgeon  informed  me  that  upon  the  instant 
the  pressure  was  relieved  I  tried  to  raise  my  head,  and 
exclaimed,  'You,  Matt,'  which  meant  more  to  you  Dr. 
Gilbert  than  it  did  to  him;  for  Matt  was  in  the  barn 
at  the  time  of  my  injury,  and  while  that  young  man 
was  tall  enough  and  strong  enough  to  have  struck  the 
blow,  which  as  deduced  by  you,  Dr.  Gilbert,  was  struck 
by  a  lefthanded  man,  he  was  not  the  one." 

Here  Frances  caught  her  breath  and  glanced  in  the 
direction  of  the  parlor  bedroom. 

"No,  no,  dear  lady,  do  not  fear,  he  is  not  guilty 
either,  believe  me,"  noticing  her  startled  look. 

"After  returning  to  my  room  in  the  hotel,  I  tried  to 
reason  out  the  object  of  my  exclamation.  I  do  not 
yet  understand  it  fully.  For  months  previous  to  my 
injury  I  had  been  planning  a  wagon  for  my  business, 
(I  am  getting  old  and  cannot  do  what  I  once  could 
with  a  pack)  so  for  some  days  after  my  return  to  the 
city  I  put  all  of  my  time  and  a  good  deal  of  my 
thought  upon  the  development  of  that  plan.  It  is  now 
materialized  and  is  standing  in  your  barn,  Farmer  Bip- 
pins. 

"During  those  days  my  mind  was  constantly  revert- 
ing to  the  meaning  of  those  two  words.  I  realized  that 
they  would  throw  suspicion  upon  Matthew  for  it  was 
already  known,  either  through  accident  or  by  his  own 
telling,  that  he  disliked  me  because  I  refused  him 
money.  I  also  relied  upon  your  honor,  and  usual  care- 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          255 

fulness,  Dr.  Gilbert,  to  say  or  do  nothing  until  you 
were  absolutely  warranted  in  taking  action.  This  I 
felt  sure  you  could  decide  no  sooner  than  I;  for  you 
would  know  no  more  about  it  than  myself.  So,  tor 
the  time,  I  passed  to  something  of  greater  importance, 
the  finding  of  Matthew  who  was  present  at  the  time  of 
my  injury.  To  accomplish  this,  I  called  into  use  an 
old-time  expedient  that  of  disguising  myself,  for  I  was 
quite  sure  that  if  it  became  known  that  I  was  search- 
ing for  him  he  would  again  disappear." 

Here  all  but  the  grinning  Bird,  who  had  found  it  no 
easy  matter  to  hold  his  peace,  looked  wonderingly 
at  one  another.  They  were  greatly  excited  although 
none  could  have  told  why.  Even  Dr.  Gilbert  lighted 
his  cigar  twice  in  thirty  seconds,  though  it  was  burning 
freely  the  first  time.  This  added  to  the  enjoyment  of 
the  grinning  one,  who  looked  on  with  an  ever  increas- 
ing desire  to  "warble  sum." 

"Do  not,  dear  lady  and  gentlemen,  misunderstand 
my  object.  For  years  my  life  has  been  in  jeopardy. 
And  only  by  resorting  to  the  methods  of  spies  and 
criminals  could  I  protect  it.  At  this  moment,  though 
do  not  let  your  friendship  for  me  give  you  any  anx- 
iety, there  are  at  least  two  Russian  spies  in  Riverton 
who  seek  my  end."  Then  at  a  thought  which  brought 
a  thin  and  flickering  smile  to  his  features,  he  con- 
tinued;— 

"One  of  them,  who  is  something  of  an  artist  as  you 
must  soon  acknowledge,  painted  my  wagon  for  me." 
And  while  Mose  only  smiled  dimly,  the  rest  laughed 
heartily  at  the  ironical  joke  fate  had  played  the  spy. 
Mose  assured  them  that  he  was  not  in  the  slightest 
danger  for  "he  had  long  known  of  the  presence  of  these 
two  men.  They  had  spent  years  to  locate  him  but  had 
no  idea  that  he  was  the  man  they  sought  Then  he 


256  FARMER  BIBBINS 

proceeded  with  his  tale. 

"After  my  wagon  was  so  far  advanced  that  Ifeltsafe 
in  leaving  it  to  the  care  of — my  enemy — I  left  the  hotel 
and  took  up  my  residence  on  Ten  Eyck  street,  where 
for  some  years  I  have  made  my  home  when  necessary. 
Yes,"  noticing  the  look  on  Wood's  face,  "I  am,  if  not 
rich,  far  from  being  poor,  though  I  have  always  found 
it  necessary  to  hide  that  fact  from  my  friends.  Nor 
should  I  speak  of  the  matter  now,  only  it  is  your  right 
to  know,  and  I  have  not  yet  settled  with  you,  Mrs. 
Bippins,  nor  with  your  good  husband  for  all  you  did 
for  the  poor  peddler." 

"Mose,  you  must  not  speak  of  settlement.  Wood 
and  I  would  not  hear  of  such  a  thing.  Neither  of  us 
could  take  anything  after  your  gift  of  the  beautiful 
coat  to  me.  Please  do  not." 

"The  coat  was  not  in  reality  a  gift  from  me,  Mrs. 
Bippins,  but  from  another— a  lady  who  is  now  sleep- 
ing with  her  fathers"— with  effort  mastering  the  emo- 
tion his  thoughts  raised.  "And  frob  her  you  must 
codsider  id  the  gifd  a'd  nod  frob  me."  He  waited 
a  while  until  he  regained  control  of  his  voice. 

"I  must  some  day  do  what  I  think  right  with  all 
who  have  been  good  to  me,  and  if  you  are  the  friends 
to  me  that  I  know  you  to  be,  you  will  not  say  no  to 
my  wishes." 

"After  changing  my  residence,  I  made  my  other 
plans  and  started  out  as  another  person  altogether. 
I  called  on  your  neighbor,"  indicating  the  Bird  who 
swelled  with  conscious  pride  and  importance  at  the 
recollection,  "as  a  gentleman  of  the  law,  and  spent  a 
day  or  two  with  him  before  making  myself  known. 
He  too  failed  to  recognize  the  man  from  whom  he 
bought  the  suit  he  is  now  wearing." 

"He  sure  did,  an'  I  am'  nun  sartain  yet  he  didn' 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          257 

hypnocate  me  er  suthin',"  smiling  benignantly  upon 
the  others. 

"Later,  Mr.  Simmons  introduced  me  to  Mr.  Low- 
ton  from  whom  I  purchased  the  saw  and  grist  mill, 
but  owing  to  the  deceased's  method  of  selling  prop- 
erty to  me  which  he  had  already  under  contract  sold 
to  his  son,  there  was  some  delay." 

Wood  was  on  the  point  of  interrupting,  but  Mose 
went  on;  — 

"Yes,  Farmer  Bippins,  he  lied  to  you  about  his  leas- 
ing it  to  Matt,  and  Matt  lied  to  others  about  his  leas- 
ing it  from  his  father.  As  neither  could  give  clear 
title  to  it,  I  had  a  very  plain  talk  with  the  elder  Low- 
ton,  (for,  Matthew  had  disappeared,)  about  accident- 
al fires  or  interference  in  any  way  with  another's  prop- 
erty, making  it  clear  I  meant  your  logs.  So  after  giv- 
ing Mr.  Simmons  my  full  confidence  I  began  a  search 
for  the  missing  Matthew  Lowton,  and  after  much  trou- 
ble I  found  him  in  a  lumber  camp  in  the  Adirondacks. 
He  is  now,  and  has  been  for  some  days,  living  in  your 
sugar  shanty." 

Once  more  all  of  the  group  except  Bert  and  Dr. 
Gilbert  were  agitated.  Farmer  Bibbins  attempted  to 
light  his  pipe  with  nothing  in  it.  After  burning  sev- 
eral matches  in  the  effort  he  laid  it  down  and  joined 
in  the  round  of  laughter  which  greeted  his  failure. 
Frances,  with  hands  tightly  clasped  in  her  lap,  her  eyes 
luminous  with  suppressed  excitement,  spoke  up. 

"It  seems  to  me  that  I  am  about  the  only  one  in  this 
council,  with  the  exception  of  Mose,  capable  of  con- 
trolling myself.  If  you  boys  can't  stop  wasting  matches 
lighting  pipes  which  have  nothing  in  them  and  cigars 
which  are  already  blazing,  I  will  adjourn  the  meeting 
and  ask  my  international  friend  to  recount  the  remain- 
der of  his  revelations  in  my  boudoir.  What  shall  we 


258  FARMER  BIBBINS 

do,  little  boys?  Think  you,  you  can  remain  orderly 
or  shall  I  dismiss  you  and  withdraw?"  While  she 
was  speaking  Bert  was  watching  the  doctor  and  dis- 
covered something  he  believed  to  be  unknown  to  the 
others;  that  while  Dr.  Gilbert  was  interested  deeply, 
it  was  not  so  much  the  story  Mose  was  telling  as  the 
fact  that  it  confirmed  something  he  already  knew  or 
guessed. 

"It  would  be  pleasant,  dear  lady,  to  sit  with  you  with 
no  ear  but  yours  to  listen;  but  the  affair  demands  the 
attention  of  your  other  councillors,  so  if  you  will  par- 
don me,"  bowing  low  to  her,  "I  will  proceed." 

"Yes,  Matthew  is,  and  for  some  time  has  been,  liv- 
ing in  your  sugar  house  as  Mr.  Simmons  can  testify, 
can  you  not,  Mr.  Simmons?" 

"I  sartainly  kin,  Mose;  cos  Lista's  ben  doin'  sum 
of  the  cookin',  an'  I've  ben  doin'  most  o'  the  totin' 
backards  and  forards  fer  him." 

"And  not  only  so,"  broke  in  Dr.  Gilbert,  "but  I  too 
can  testify  on  the  authority  of  reliable  hearsay  evi- 
dence to  some  of  Mose's  story.  My  patient  at  Tre- 
mains  was  nearly  killed  in  the  lumber  camp  where 
Matt  was  working.  One  night  it  so  happened  that  I 
was  very  late,  so  late  that  they  had  concluded  I  would 
not  come  at  all.  When  I  drove  up  to  the  barn  I  saw 
a  man— whom  I  thought  I  recognized— come  from 
the  house,  cross  the  yard  and  road,  and  disappear  into 
the  woods  beyond.  When  I  came  here  next,  Farmer 
Bibbins,  I  enlisted  the  services  of  your  young  man 
Charles  who  located  Mr.  Matthew  a  few  days  later 
where  Mose  and  Bert  placed  him  in  your  sugar  house. 
As  for  my  agitation  or  excitement,  Frances,  it  was  not 
exactly  on  account  of  Mose's  statement,  but  because 
of  what  I  just  saw  outside.  Now  you  must  not  give 
yourself  any  anxiety  over  what  I  am  about  to  say,  for 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          259 

Mose  and  I  together  (I  being  an  officer  of  the  county 
attached  to  the  sheriff's  personnel  as  a  deputy,  and 
Mose's  knowledge  of  facts)  will  prevent  harm  to 
you  and  yours.  I  assure  you  that  there  is  not  the  least 
occasion  for  worry." 

"Dr.  Gilbert!"  Frances  had  moved  to  the  window 
and  stood  peering  out.  It  was  when  she  turned  from 
the  window  that  the  words,  "Dr.  Gilbert,"  shot  from 
her  lips  in  sudden  apprehension. 

"Did  you  send  for  those  men?"  Her  eyes  were 
searching  his  with  a  look  akin  to  anger,  and  her 
hands  were  painfully  gripped  in  an  effort  at  self-con- 
trol. Wood  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  the  Bird  was 
about  to  follow  his  example  when  he  caught  the  doc- 
tor's eye  and  subsided.  Mose  was  looking  from  one 
to  the  other.  At  first  he  showed  a  sort  of  subdued 
amazement,  but  finally  letting  his  eye  follow  Wood 
as  he  crossed  the  large  room  to  his  wife,  he  turned 
calmly  to  the  fire. 

"Calm  yourself,  little  girl,  there  is  no  cause  for 
alarm,"  Wood  said  soothingly,  "Neither  you  nor 
Ward  has  any  truer  friend  than  the  Doc,  you  know 
it  too  dear,  don't  you?" 

For  a  moment  she  looked  at  him  before  speaking. 
"But  Wood,  Dr.  Gilbert  said  he  was  an  officer,  and 
those  two?"  looking  toward  the  barn,  "have  been  sent 
for,  or  they  would  not  be  here.  You  couldn't  have 
done  it,  and  no  one  else  knew,  did  they?  But  they 
shall  not  take  my  boy,  I  won't  have  it." 

Her  alarm  was  subsiding  until  the  last  phase  of  the 
matter  recurred  to  her,  when  it  increased  perceptibly. 
Again  she  faced  Dr.  Gilbert,  Wood  still  embracing 
her,  but  in  her  rapid  survey  of  the  room,  her  vision, 
crossing  from  her  husband  to  the  doctor,  caught  sight 
of  the  quiet  Jew  as  he  sat  smoking  and  watching  the 


26o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

flames.  Then  her  glance  turned  to  the  placid  Bird, 
so  cool  and  contentedly  happy,  that  by  the  time  her 
eyes  had  made  the  circuit  and  reached  Dr.  Gilbert  again 
her  anger  had  completely  vanished.  She  held  out  her 
hand  to  him,  and  began  softly  to  cry. 

"Here,  here,  unless  those  are  tears  of  joy  they  are 
most  certainly  out  of  place,  dear  Frances,"  said  the 
physician,  taking  her  hand.  "I  was  a  fool  to  speak  as 
I  did,  but  for  the  moment  I  was  surprised  quite  out 
of  myself.  Not  a  word,  now.  You  are  completely 
worn  out,"  for  she  was  preparing  to  speak.  "Not 
one  word,  unless  you  say  that  you  forgive  me.  Your 
husband  is  right,  though  for  the  life  of  me  I  don't 
understand  what  Chase  and  the  district  attorney  are 
doing  here,  do  you  Wood?" 

"Yes,  I  sent  for  the  district  attorney  myself,  yes- 
terday when  I  was  at  Madran.  I  did  not  speak  of  it 
earlier  on  your  account,  Frances,"  speaking  directly 
to  her.  "Ward  requested  it,  dear,  besides  I  had  my 
own  reasons.  They  are  here  as  our  friends  and  will 
not  interfere  with  Ward,  not  in  the  least,  wife,  be- 
lieve me,"  speaking  affectionately  close  to  her  ear.  "But 
here  they  come.  You  must  go  into  the  other  room, 
little  girl,  and  dry  your  eyes.  Ward  must  be  lone- 
some, besides  he  will  tell  you  why  he  wanted  to  see 
Mr.  Porter." 

Later  after  an  all-round  hand-shaking  and  the  usual 
greetings,  the  district  attorney  and  Mr.  Chase,  the 
constable,  were  warming  themselves  by  the  large  open 
fire-place  while  all  were  lighting  fresh  cigars  sup- 
plied by  their  host. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  the  lawyer  was  first  to  speak, 
"this  doesn't  seem  much  like  a  gathering  of  forces 
to  apprehend  a  noted  criminal,  does  it?  By  the  way, 
Deputy  Gilbert,  how  is  your  prisoner-patient?  Have 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          261 

you  got  him  handcuffed  and  ironed  to  the  bed,  or  fas- 
tened to  a  ring  in  the  floor?"  he  asked  laughingly. 

"Not  exactly,  Mr.  Porter,  though  he's  held  as  steel 
could  never  hold  him.  He's  found  a  nurse,  an  aunt, 
and  a  mother,  all  in  one.  Chase,  big  as  he  is,  could 
never  take  him  from  her." 

"I  do  not  think  I  quite  understand  you,  Dr.  Gil- 
bert?" but  he  looked  at  Farmer  Bibbins. 

"He  is  the  son  of  my  wife's  sister,  Mr.  Porter. 
That  is  why  he  is  here  instead  of  at  Mr.  Kendall's.  I 
didn't  speak  of  it  to  you  before,  fearing  you  might 
think  I  possessed  some  ulterior  motive  back  of  my  re- 
quests." 

He  gave  the  district  attorney  a  full  history  of  the 
young  man,  save  the  part  connecting  him  with  the  in- 
jury to  Mose,  concluding  with  the  question;— 

"Have  you  decided  on  any  course  since  our  conver- 
sation over  the  wire  yesterday?" 

The  others  looked  up  in  astonishment. 

"Yes,  and  no.  I  am  very  sorry  for  your  wife  es- 
pecially, Mr.  Bibbins,  and  for  all  of  you.  The  Doc- 
tor's words,  besides  yours  of  yesterday  and  this  morn- 
ing, tell  me  how  it  will  affect  your  wife  if  we  have  to 
proceed.  But  since  last  night  I  am  particularly  afraid 
that  it  will  have  to  go  before  the  grand  jury." 

"Why  especially  since  last  night?"  The  quesion 
came  from  Dr.  Gilbert. 

"Because  a  person  by  the  name  of  Coffee  swore  out 
a  warrant  before  a  justice  of  the  peace  at  Riverton 
late  yesterday  afternoon,  charging  him  with  assault 
with  intent  to  kill.  Mr.  Chase  has  the  warrant  with 
him.  That's  why  he  is  with  me.  I  have  explained 
fully  that  he  is  in  your  charge  both  as  a  physician  and 
an  officer  of  the  county,  and  cannot  be  moved  without 
your  consent,"  he  added.  "Not  for  the  present  any- 


262  FARMER  BIBBINS 

way." 

Wood  jumped  to  his  feet,  followed  by  all  save  the 
peddler  who  sat  quietly  though  greatly  disturbed  as 
his  glittering  eyes  attested.  None  of  them  noticed  his 
pertubation,  as  he  remained  motionless. 

"Coffee?"  both  Wood  and  Dr.  Gilbert  questioningly 
exclaimed. 

"Yes,  a  preacher,  I  believe,  isn't  he?"  asked  the  at- 
torney. 

"So-called,  Mr.  Porter,  so-called,"  the  doctor  re- 
plied abstractedly,  sitting  down  again.  "So  he  has 
acted  finally,  has  he?" 

"Were  you  expecting  him  to?"  The  lawyer's  ques- 
tion was  slightly  suspicious  in  tone. 

"Yes,  I've  been  expecting  it.  When  you  told  me  the 
other  day  that  a  warrant  for  the  young  man  had  been 
secured,  I  then  believed  it  was  he  who  had  done  it. 
Later  when  Mr.  Goldsborough  told  me  that  he  had 
been  trying  to  get  one  from  you,  and  you  had  informed 
him  of  the  one  already  issued,  I  was  uncertain;  for 
he,"  indicating  the  peddler  by  a  gesture,  "said  it  had 
been  done  by  a  friend,  and  the  Elder  is  no  friend  of 
Ward  Ralph's,  nor  of  any  one  else,  not  even  himself. 
What  are  you  going  to  do?  You  can't  take  him.  His 
condition  prevents  that.  Chase,  what  are  you  intend- 
ing to  do  with  your  warrant?"  Gilbert  suddenly  asked 
of  the  constable,  greatly  to  that  gentleman's  embar- 
rassment. 

"Well,"  he  said  after  collecting  his  thoughts,  "I 
callated  to  wait  till  you  served  the  one  he,"  indicat- 
ing the  district  attorney,  "has  with  him,  and  then  re- 
turn mine.  That  is  what  we  agreed  to  coming  here." 

"Me?  You  want  me  to  arrest  Ward?  What  for?" 
the  doctor  asked  the  attorney. 

"To   prevent   Chase   doing   it,"    he   said   abruptly. 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          263 

Then  with  more  kindliness  he  continued:— 

"You  see,  gentlemen,  this  has  gotten  beyond  me. 
These  later  developments  make  it  necessary  for  me  to 
act.  It  would  all  have  been  in  tonight's  papers  only 
I  requested  otherwise.  When  Mr.  Bibbins  phoned 
me  yesterday  to  come  out  this  morning,  I  knew  noth- 
ing of  this  last  warrant;  not  until  Chase  came  to  me 
this  morning,  then  we  decided  to  come  together  and 
with  a  rig  which  could  under  no  circumstances  carry 
three  back  to  the  city,  understand?  Now,  Doctor,  you 
are  a  deputy  sheriff,  take  this  warrant,"  handing  it 
to  the  doctor,  "and  after  making  your  explanations  to 
the  young  man,  serve  it.  This  is  all  irregular  you 
know,  but  Chase  and  I  are  not  brutes  though  we  some- 
times have  to  be  severe;  for  our  own  interests  we 
shall  say  nothing  of  this  irregularity." 

"One  minute,  gentlemen,"  Mose  spoke,  and,  as  he 
stood  up  with  his  back  to  the  hearth  they  could  see 
from  his  bearing  and  pale  face  that  he  was  worn  and 
tired.  "Farmer  Bippins,  will  you  ask  your  good  wife 
to  come?" 

Wood  glanced  up  at  Mose,  then  went  for  Frances, 
but  at  the  door  was  stopped  by  the  doctor  who  grasped 
his  hand  and  spoke  in  a  low  voice.  "Tell  her  that 
everything  has  come  out  all  right,  as  you  knew  it  would 
when  you  swore  out  this  warrant,"  holding  out  the 
paper,  "only  don't  tell  her  that,  for  you  had  best  let 
some  one  else  tell  her  of  your  perfidy,  you  scoundrel," 
and  warmly  pressed  his  hand  in  token  of  complete  un- 
derstanding. Wood  gasped  but  said  nothing,  while 
the  doctor  returned  to  his  chair.  After  Frances  was 
introduced  to  Mr.  Porter  and  the  constable,  Wood 
placed  her  chair  by  his,  and  Mose  began. 

"Dear  lady,  and  gentlemen,"  bowing  formally  and 
with  unconscious  dignity,  "the  time  has  at  last  come, 


264  FARMER  BIBBINS 

which  I  have  been  hoping  would  never  come — the  time 
when  it  is  necessary  for  me  to  speak  of  that  which  I 
had  hoped  would  never  pass  my  lips." 

He  looked  at  each  searchingly,  finally  permitting  his 
gaze  to  rest  on  Frances. 

"It  is  entirely  for  your  sake,  dear  lady,  that  I  am 
about  to  tell  these  gentlemen  that  which  will  relieve 
them  of  every  unpleasant  duty  centering  in  me,  and 
you  of  every  unhappy  thought  in  regard  to  your  splen- 
did new-found  son.  But  I  am  ahead  of  my  time," 
taking  out  a  massive  gold  watch  and  glancing  at  it. 
"No,  it  is  the  others  who  are  late.  Mr.  Simmons, 
will  you  kindly  step  outside  and  whistle  three  times 
toward  the  barn?" 

While  the  Bird  was  giving  the  signal,  the  others 
quietly  waited.  Farmer  Bibbins  was  holding  his  wife's 
hand  in  a  gentle  fond  clasp,  while  Dr.  Gilbert  was 
watching  the  peddler  with  a  new  and  somewhat  ap- 
prehensive interest.  In  a  few  moments  later  the  Bird 
ushered  Charles  and  Matt  Lowton  into  the  room  and 
gave  them  chairs.  Neither  of  the  new-comers  spoke, 
though  Matt  nodded  to  the  doctor  and  Farmer  Bib- 
bins.  It  would  hardly  express  the  condition  of  Wood 
and  Frances  to  say  that  they  were  surprised.  Even 
Dr.  Gilbert  seemed  to  be  taken  unawares  by  this  new 
turn  of  events,  while  the  two  officers  from  Riverton 
looked  inquiringly  at  each  other  and  then  at  the  rest 
of  the  company.  Again  Mose  was  the  first  to  break 
the  silence; — 

"Thank  you  Charles,  you  were  not  only  successful 
I  see,  but  prompt.  Now  my  friends  I  think  there  will 
be  no  further  interruption,  and  I  will  make  my  talk 
as  brief  as  possible.  Last  summer,  early  in  the  aft- 
ernoon of  the  day  I  was  injured,  I  was  coming  down 
the  Kendall  Hill  road,  when  I  was  accosted  by  a  man 


265 

who  wished  to  talk  with  me.  I  lowered  my  pack,  and 
leaving  my  faithful  companion  to  watch  it,  we  stepped 
into  the  shade  of  the  woods  and  sat  on  a  fallen  tree. 
The  man  was  anxious  to  borrow  money — a  consider- 
able amount  for  one  in  his  position,  offering  as  se- 
curity a  horse  and  carriage  which  was  then  tied  by  the 
roadside  near  my  pack  and  several  other  horses  which 
he  said  were  in  his  stable.  I  refused  the  loan,  not 
because  I  doubted  the  ownership  of  the  property  of- 
fered in  security,  (though  I  certainly  did  doubt  it,) 
but  because  I  cared  not  to  have  such  relations  with  the 
man  himself.  I  was  tired  and  warm;  the  cool  forest 
shade  was  inviting;  the  air  was  quiet  and  exceedingly 
hot,  which  was  probably  one  reason  why  my  conver- 
sation with  him  was  prolonged.  This  gave  him  time 
to  become  very  angry  with  me  because  I  refused  his 
many  importunities  for  the  money.  He  begged  me  to 
help  him,  finally  telling  me  his  reason  for  wanting  so 
large  a  sum.  I  refused,  more  determined  than  ever 
not  to  accommodate  him.  He  threatened  my  life,  and 
doubtless  would  have  laid  violent  hands  upon  me  only 
that  a  team  was  passing  and  the  Prophet  (my  dog, 
Mr.  Porter)  came  to  my  aid.  He  drove  the  man  back 
to  his  carriage  and  away  from  the  place  entirely.  1 
think  he  was  armed  though  fearful  of  attracting  atten- 
tion by  a  shot.  For  some  time  after  his  departure  I  con- 
tinued to  sit  restingmyself  in  the  shade  of  thewoods.  It 
was  perhaps  three-thirty  in  the  afternoon  when  I  came 
here.  There  was  no  one  in  the  house.  I  went  to  your 
barn,  Farmer  Bippins,  and  lay  down  on  some  hay  near 
the  place  where  you  found  me  later.  I  supposed  my- 
self alone.  You  and  your  men  were  in  the  field  where 
I  could  see  you  from  the  farther  entrance.  I  lay 
down  near  my  pack.  Unfortunately  my  dog  had  be- 
come interested  in  his  favorite  pastime  of  chasing  cats 


266  FARMER  BIBBINS 

and  had  deserted  me. 

"Evidently  the  man  whom  I  had  refused  to  aid  that 
afternoon  had  suspected  this  would  be  my  destination 
and  he  had  preceded  me  with  another  man  who  in  a 
sense  was  also  interested  in  the  loan.  The  two  had 
hidden  in  your  cattle  manger.  The  one  with  whom  I 
had  talked  in  the  woods  attacked  me.  He  drew  a  re- 
volver and  commanded  me  to  give  him  the  money.  In 
his  excitement  he  spoke  so  loud  that  he  awakened  a 
fourth  man,  who  like  myself  had  entered  your  barn 
seeking  rest  and  seclusion  from  the  heat.  Being  a 
stranger  I  suppose  his  natural  impulse  was  to  climb  to 
the  haymow  where  he  would  be  screened  from  observa- 
tion. At  the  sound  of  my  assailant's  loud  voice,  he 
got  up  quietly  and  peered  down  at  us.  From  where 
I  stood  I  could  see  him,  quite  plainly." 

"He  signalled  with  his  hand  that  he  was  friendly  to 
me,  and  than  reached  up  for  an  iron  bar  quite  near 
him,  one  you  used  for  securing  the  upper  door  to  your 
silo,  Farmer  Bippins.  This  he  hurled  at  the  man  with 
the  gun.  It  struck  him  on  the  arm,  causing  him  to 
drop  the  pistol.  The  rod  was  thrown  with  great  force, 
the  end  of  it  striking  my  enemy's  arm.  Just  then  I 
saw  another  face  lifted  above  the  edge  of  the  manger, 
but  before  I  could  cry  out  to  him,  the  iron  bar  thrown 
by  the  young  man  struck  me  with  full  force  as  it  turned 
from  my  assailant's  arm,  knocking  me  senseless  to  the 
floor.  I  am  sure  the  unknown  friend  thought  he  had 
killed  me,  for  seeing  the  other  man  who  had  remained 
hidden  until  that  moment,  join  my  assailant,  he  slipped 
down  the  far  side  of  the  hay  mow  and  dropped  from 
a,  rear  window.  Being  a  stranger  and  understanding 
nothing  of  the  circumstances,  but  realizing  that  there 
were  two  witnesses  against  him  as  my  murderer  if  I 
were  killed,  he  fled.  He  knew  that  in  his  investiga- 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          267 

tions  of  farm  life  he  had  acquired  the  reputation  of  a 
tramp,  and  could  not  know  that  the  fourth  man  would 
prove  my  friend.  In  his  anxiety  to  get  away  he 
thought  of  nothing  but  his  own  safety  and  the  fact 
that  if  he  were  recognized  the  two  witnesses  would 
convict  him.  You  understand  that  I  am  merely  guess- 
ing at  what  he  thought  and  felt,  though  I  have  learned 
enough  to  exonerate  him  no  matter  what  might  be 
sworn  against  him.  That  same  evening  after  he  had 
calmed  himself  he  returned  to  the  barn  to  see  if  I  had 
been  cared  for.  I  also  know  that  he  sought  work  with 
your  neighbors  that  he  might  be  near  at  hand  if  wanted 
for  causing  my  death. 

"From  the  first,  efforts  have  been  made  to  direct 
suspicion  toward  him,  and  this  effort  has  been  carried 
to  the  extreme  of  manufacturing  evidence  against  him. 
This  I  know  to  be  a  fact. 

"Dr.  Gilbert,  on  the  night  you  came  first  to  see  me 
you  had  a  short  talk  with  Charles,  (one  of  Farmer 
Bippins'  helpers,)  when  he  brought  your  horse  after 
you  had  finished  your  task  with  me.  About  a  week 
later  you  had  another  conversation  with  him  at  the 
'Willows,'  which  like  the  first  one  was  overheard  by 
my  assailant.  What  he  heard,  and  from  an  unhappy 
coincidence  with  your  deductions— for  the  young  man 
is  left  handed— made  everything  easy  for  him  to  work 
out  a  plan  for  directing  suspicion  against  the  friend 
who  tried  to  save  me.  Much  of  this  I  learned  recently 
through  my  good  friend  and  helper,  Mr.  Simmons, 
and  some  of  it  I  deduced  from  the  facts  already 
learned. 

"Unfortunately  for  him,  the  young  man  left  a  large 
red  handkerchief  on  the  hay  where  he  was  lying.  Aft- 
er his  escape  the  others  found  it.  One  of  them  tried 
to  use  it  against  him  for  they  guessed  ils  ownership 


268  FARMER  BIBBINS 

from  its  peculiar  size  and  shade  of  red.  They  had 
both  noticed  it  that  noon  when  the  young  man  in  ques- 
tion stopped  at  the  house  where  they  were  dining  to 
inquire  the  way  to  Farmer  Bippins.  The  next  morning 
this  handkerchief  was  placed  on  a  window  of  your 
stable,  Farmer  Bippins,  so  that  any  one  finding  it 
would  believe  it  had  been  accidentally  caught  there 
and  drawn  from  the  pocket  of  whoever  climbed  through 
the  opening.  What  became  of  it  is  not  material. 

"These  things  were  transacted  while  you,  dear  lady 
and  your  good  man,  were  caring  for  me  under  the  skill- 
ful hand  of  our  friend  Dr.  Gilbert. 

"Some  weeks  passed.  I  had  recovered  and  return- 
ed to  the  city.  Soon  after  I  left  my  assailant  called 
upon  me  and  begged  me  to  forgive  him,  which  I  did. 
Believing  the  man  to  have  been  insane  with  worry  and 
anxiety  at  the  time  of  his  assault  I  simply  forgave  his 
injury  to  me,  which  apparently  satisfied  him.  In  the 
intensity  of  his  relief  I  am  sure  he  forgot  to  ask  me  to 
promise  him  that  there  should  be  no  legal  proceedings 
against  him.  Nor  should  I  ever  have  repeated  what  I 
am  now  telling  you  had  he  remained  true  to  the  pact 
of  our  understanding,  nor  shall  I  of  my  own  volition 
do  more  than  I  am  now  doing.  I  supposed  that  the  mat- 
ter was  ended  so  far  as  it  concerned  either  of  us.  Fate 
has  decreed  otherwise. 

"A  week  or  two  later  the  young  man  who  tried  to 
save  me  in  your  barn  discovered  the  man  whom  I  had 
forgiven  in  an  intrigue  with  a  young  woman  of  the 
neighborhood.  In  the  frenzied  condition  of  his  mind 
following  this  new  cause  of  anxiety,  he  lost  all  control  of 
himself,  doing  many  things  which  would  have  convict- 
ed him  of  crime  even  if  he  had  not  twice  attempted 
the  life  of  our  young  friend  during  his  stay  at  your 
neighbor's." 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          269 

At  this  denouement,  Frances,  who  had  listened  to 
the  Jew's  story  with  intense  interest,  suddenly  ex- 
claimed—"Oh,  the  wretch,  and  to  think  that  he— ; 

"Dear  lady,"  Mose  interrupted  ere  she  could  pro- 
nounce the  name,  "All  that  he  can  do  he  has  done,  and 
the  result  of  his  evil  act  will  soon  be  remedied  by  your 
kind  ministry.  It  was  after  the  first  attempt  on  the 
life  of  your  nephew,  and  but  a  few  days  before  his 
recent  and  more  serious,  though  unsuccessful,  effort, 
that  our  young  friend  wrote  a  letter  to  the  district  at- 
torney. Had  you  received  that  letter,  Mr.  Porter,  it 
would  have  given  you  a  clear  and  quite  complete  his- 
tory of  all  which  led  up  to  the  injury  to  me,  as  well 
as  a  true  account  of  that  incident  itself  up  to  the  date 
of  the  letter,  including  all  but  the  main  fact,  which 
the  writer  did  not  know. 

"You  did  not  receive  it  for  the  very  good  reason 
that  the  young  man  gave  it  to  Mr.  Kendall  to  mail, 
and  he  in  his  turn  handed  it  to  my  assailant  for  the 
same  purpose.  It  went  no  further  on  its  road  to  you, 
although  it  was  mailed  later  to  another  person  who 
since  then  has  turned  it  over  to  me." 

Here  Dr.  Gilbert  looked  at  Wood  as  if  to  say, 
"What  did  I  tell  you?" 

Mose  went  on;  — 

"Not  only  did  he  remail  this  letter  which  was  writ- 
ten for  Mr.  Porter's  eye  alone,  but  he  has  written 
other  letters  giving  many  details  of  what  was  going  on 
in  this  community  with  reference  to  the  matter,  word- 
ing them  in  such  a  way  that  they  included  the  recipient 
in  the  responsibility,  making  him  share  the  burden  of 
guilt.  All  of  this  I  can  prove  for  I  have  the  letters  in 
my  possession — the  one  receiving  them  having  turned 
them  over  to  me— which  is  proof  of  the  latter'"  inno. 
*•  " 


27o  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Dr.  Gilbert,  I  have  known  for  some  days  of  the 
visit  to  you  on  the  evening  following  Ward's  fall  and 
how  your  caller  tried  to  incriminate  the  innocent  by 
turning  over  to  you  the  iron  bar  which  caused  my  in- 
jury. This  he  hoped  to  make  evidence  against  the 
young  man.  This,  as  you  must  see,  is  greater  proof  of 
his  own  guilt.  Unfortunately  for  the  young  man,  his 
enemy  was  too  cunning  for  him.  He  knew  of  his  pres- 
ence in  Mr.  Kendall's  barn  that  morning  and  arranged 
the  whole  matter  to  destroy  the  one  who  could  ruin 
him  by  a  word,  and  who,  he  knew,  had  written  to  Mr. 
Porter  that  which  might  have  placed  him  in  a  pre- 
carious position. 

"As  soon  as  these  facts  came  to  me  through  the 
letters  referred  to,  I  decided  that  so  long  as  I  did  not 
know  whether  you  were  in  possession  of  any  of  this 
information  the  wisest  thing  for  me  to  do  would  be  to 
swear  out  a  warrant  for  the  young  man  myself.  Then 
I  could  ask  you,  Mr.  Porter,  after  I  had  explained  my 
position  in  the  matter,  to  hold  the  whole  affair  in  abey- 
ance until  it  could  be  satisfactorily  adjusted.  In  this 
plan  I  was  forestalled  by  some  one  whom  I  believed 
was  Dr.  Gilbert.  He  told  me  that  he  did  not  do  it, 
although  he  had  heard  of  it  from  you,  and  also  stated 
that  he  had  asked  to  be  made  the  legal  custodian  of  the 
young  man  as  he  already  had  his  health  in  his  charge. 
This  is  all  I  have  to  explain,  though  I  feel  certain  that 
my  good  friends,  Farmer  Bippins,  Dr.  Gilbert,  and 
Matt  have  something  to  add  to  this.  I  thank  you 
for  your  patience." 

Mose  sat  down.  He  was  worn  and  haggard  at  the 
end  of  his  speech,  and  Dr.  Gilbert  noticing  his  condi- 
tion quickly  brought  him  a  little  brandy  from  his  case, 
which  the  Jew  gratefully  accepted.  Through  it  all 
he  had  remained  calm  and  passive  as  if  he  were  the 


MOSE  BREAKS  HIS  SILENCE          271 

least  interested  of  the  group,  but  the  recital  had  told 
on  him  and  Dr.  Gilbert  insisted  on  his  retiring  for  a 
good  long  rest.  Wood  and  Charley  helped  him  from 
the  room,  and  up  to  his  bed. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS 


I 


departure  of  Mose,  whose  enervation 
was  noticeable  to  everyone,  broke  the  intense 
strain  under  which  Frances  had  followed 
his  every  word.  Though  much  of  the  story 
was  familiar,  there  was  a  portion  of  it,  a  considerable 
portion,  which  was  new  to  her.  She  was  glad  of  the 
period  of  rest  following  the  departure  of  Wood  and 
Charley  with  Mose.  Little  was  said  by  anyone,  only 
the  Bird  was  manifesting  signs  of  flight,  induced  no 
doubt  by  his  recognition  of  Dr.  Gilbert's  clever  move 
to  get  Mose  to  his  room  before  the  lawyer  should  at- 
tempt to  question  him,  though  possibly  by  some  im- 
pelling impulse  of  his  own.  After  a  few  minutes  of 
fidgeting  about  in  his  chair,  he  turned  to  Frances  and 
asked  to  be  excused  for  a  few  moments.  With  the 
remark  that  he  would  soon  return  he  took  his  hat  and 
coat  and  went  out. 

The  lawyer  was  about  to  speak  to  Mr.  Chase,  when 
Frances  caught  sight  of  the  clock  and  was  reminded 
of  the  hour  with  its  pressing  duties.  Inviting  them 
into  the  sittingroorn,  where  Wood  soon  joined  them 
with  the  doctor,  she  instructed  Maggie  to  prepare  din- 
ner for  all  present.  It  was  already  past  the  time  for 
the  mid-day  meal  but  so  completely  had  her  interest 
been  absorbed  by  the  revelations  of  Mose,  that  the 
hour  had  passed  unnoticed. 

When  the  men  entered  the  adjoining  room  Matt 
hung  back.  He  was  on  the  point  of  following  Bert 
when  Frances  approached  him  with  extended  hand; — 

272 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         273 

"How  do  you  do,  Matthew?  I  am  glad  to  see  you 
back  again.  Won't  you  stay  with  us  for  dinner?  You 
are  very  welcome  and  we  shall  be  disappointed  if  you 
refuse;  do  stay." 

Matt  stammered  hesitatingly.  Her  cordiality  em- 
barrassed him,  but  he  finally  spoke. 

"Mrs.  Bibbins,  I  am  not  fit  to  sit  under  your  roof, 
much  less  to  eat  at  your  table.  I  am  here  only  be- 
cause I  wanted  to  undo  the  wrong  I  have  done.  I  — 

"Never  mind  that  now,  Matthew,  you  are  our  guest 
and  equally  welcome  with  the  others.  Anyway,  you 
must  not  go  until  you  speak  with  my  husband.  I  will 
call  him." 

She  stepped  quickly  to  the  door  and  said:  — 

"Wood,  Matthew  wishes  to  speak  with  you,"  which 
so  increased  the  embarrassment  of  the  big  fellow  that 
he  had  shaken  hands  with  Farmer  Bibbins  ere  he  re- 
covered himself. 

"Farmer  Bi-" 

"Not  a  word,  Matt,  it's  all  right,"  Wood  inter- 
rupted. How  are  things  coming  on  at  the  mill  ?" 

"Fine,  only  you  see — damn  it,  this  isn't  fair,  excuse 
me  Mrs.  Bibbins  I  won't  stand  for  it.  You  ought  to 
kick  me  out  that's  what  I  deserve.  I've  done  every- 
thing on  God's  earth  to  ruin  you  and  your  plans  and 
injure  your  friends.  It  isn't  my  fault  that  there  isn't 
blood  on  my  hands,  not  your  husband's,  Mrs.  Bibbins," 
noting  her  frightened  look,  "but  that  damned  old  Cof- 
fee. And  now  you,  and  your  wife,  ask  me  to  sit  at 
your  table?  I  can't  do  it,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  I'm  a  bad 
one  clear  through  but  I'm  not  quite  that  much  lost  to 
decency.  No,  no,  I'll  be  damned  if  I  will.  I  beg  your 
pardon  Mrs.  Bibbins.  Not  until  I've  made  good,  any- 
way," replying  to  Wood's  urging. 

"I'll  go  in  there,"  pointing  to  the  room  where  the 


274  FARMER  BIBBINS 

other  men  were  waiting  dinner,  "and  say  what  I  can 
to  clear  things  up,  but  you'll  have  to  let  me  out  of  this 
after  they  are  through,  if  they  don't  arrest  me.  Why 
the  bread  would  choke  me." 

He  went  into  the  other  room  and  sat  down  by 
Charley. 

"Come,  wife,  let  Maggie  get  dinner.  I  want  you 
to  hear  what  Doc  and  I  have  to  say  to  Mr.  Porter," 
leading  Frances  into  the  room  where  all  but  the  genial 
Bert  were  waiting. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Simmons?"  he  asked  and  Frances 
explained  his  absence. 

"We  must  have  him  in  here,  Doc,  for  we  want  this 
matter  fully  straightened  out  now,  and  Bert  can  cor- 
roborate nearly  everything  known  to  the  rest  of  us. 
Charley,  bring  Bert,  will  you?" 

But  Charley  returned  with  the  report  that  he  was 
not  at  the  barn,  nor  was  his  horse.  His  buggy  was 
there,  and  the  harness,  but  the  horse  and  the  Bird 
were  missing.  Dr.  Gilbert  hastily  arose  and  left  the 
house.  He  went,  not  into,  but  around  the  outside  of 
the  barn.  From  the  farther  end  and  leading  toward 
Madran  were  the  plain  hoof-marks  of  a  horse,  easily 
seen  in  the  light  snow  which  had  fallen.  Tust  out- 
side the  barn  the  tracks  of  a  man  showed  besides  those 
of  the  horse,  but  a  few  feet  farther  on  they  ceased  alto- 
gether and  one  could  not  but  conclude  that  the  man 
had  ridden  away  in  haste. 

"Good  for  you,  old  man!"  the  doctor  shouted  joy- 
fully. "You've  got  more  brains  than  all  the  Gilbert's 
on  earth!  I  hope  you  succeed!" 

He  stood  there,  slapping  his  leg  and  laughing,  as  if 
the  only  thing  worth  while  after  the  Bird's  hoped-for 
success  was  to  get  the  laugh  out  of  his  system  before 
he  returned  to  the  house. 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         275 

uMr.  Simmons  has  evidently  returned  to  his  home," 
he  said  soberly,  as  he  drew  up  a  chair  and  seated  him- 
self by  Mrs.  Bibbins,  on  whose  other  side  Wood  was 
sitting. 

"You  will  pardon  my  haste,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  but  it  is 
already  past  twelve,"  looking  at  his  watch,  "and  I 
must  be  back  in  Riverton  this  afternoon,"  Mr.  Porter 
spoke  up.  "I  should  very  much  like  to  hear  your  hus- 
band's account  of  this  matter,  also  Dr.  Gilbert's,  and 
the  young  man's  — Ralph — if  necessary.  I  wish  Mr. 
Goldsborough  could  have  remained  with  us,"  he  add- 
ed regretfully. 

"There  is  but  little  for  me  to  add,"  said  Wood.  "In 
fact  nothing  of  importance  after  the  Doc  tells  us  what 
he  knows.  Fire  away,  Doc." 

"Before  I  do  so,  Mrs.  Bibbins,"  speaking  directly 
to  her,  "let  me  assure  you  that  the  only  reason  why 
either  your  husband  or  I  have  kept  anything  from 
you  was  because  we  knew  only  that  certain  facts  were, 
but  knew  not  why  they  were.  With  the  burden  of 
cares  and  responsibilities  thrown  upon  you  through 
crime  and  accident,  together  with  your  anxiety  over 
the  factory  which  now  is  on  its  way  to  success,  we  both 
thought  best  to  add  nothing  until  we  could  subtract 
at  least  as  fast  as  we  multiplied." 

He  then  told  his  own  connection  with  the  chain  of 
events  woven  around  the  injury  to  Mose,  repeating  his 
deductions  concerning  the  case  which  he  had  made  to 
Charley  at  the  Willows  about  a  week  after  his  first 
visit  to  Mose.  Matt  was  noticeably  agitated.  The 
doctor  gave  no  heed  to  the  young  man's  evident  dis- 
tress, but  went  on  with  his  quiet  analysis  of  every  point 
which  had  come  to  his  attention.  Occasionally  he  looked 
to  Charley  for  confirmation,  which  confirmation  was 
given  in  quiet  but  self-assured  nods  and  "Yes  sirs," 


276  FARMER  BIBBINS 

to  the  silent  enjoyment  of  the  others  who  understood 
the  boy's  exaltation  at  being  the  recipient  of  the  doc- 
tor's confidence.  For  a  reason  known  to  himself  only, 
he  made  no  secret  of  the  name  of  Mose's  assailant,  as 
had  Mose  himself;  though  on  the  other  hand,  like 
Mose,  he  did  not  refer  to  Matt  by  name — which  ap- 
parently increased  the  latter's  nervousness. 

When  he  reached  the  stage  of  their  present  gather- 
ing in  the  home  of  Farmer  Bibbins,  he  placed  his  hand 
on  Frances  Bibbins'  shoulder,  forcing  her  to  face  her 
husband,  and  with  mock  seriousness  said; — 

"Madam,  a  little  while  ago  you  felt  somewhat  in- 
clined to  resent  a  certain  —occurrence— you  remem- 
ber?" 

She  glanced  up  at  him  for  a  second;— 

"You  mean?"  partly  turning  toward  the  lawyer  and 
officer  Chase: — 

"Yes,  I  mean  that  very  thing.     Now  what  do  you 
think  of  this   villain,"   slapping  Wood   on  the  back, 
"when  I  tell  you  that  he  was  the  man  who  swore  out 
the  warrant  for  Ward  Ralph,  charging  him  with— 
pausing  dramatically. 

"With  what?"  springing  to  her  feet  and  starting  at 
her  husband  wonderingly.  "Wood  Bibbins,  with  what 
did  you  charge  Ward?"  she  almost  shouted  the  words, 
so  wrought  up  was  she. 

"Trespassing!"  said  Dr.  Gilbert.  "Yes,  Madam, 
think  of  it,  trespassing!  You  can  see  for  yourself  just 
what  a  scoundrel  he  is,"  handing  her  the  warrant. 

"Oh,  I  need  no  further  evidence  of  that,  I've  al- 
ways known  it,"  she  said  quite  calmly,  although  in  her 
ioyful  relief  the  tears  were  flowing  without  any  effort 
on  her  part  to  conceal  them.  Then  she  turned  and 
Inssed  him  before  them  all.  "Gloriously,"  was  the  way 
the  district  attorney  described  it  that  night  at  his  club. 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         277 

"But  why  did  you  do  it,  Wood?"  she  asked  when 
all  were  quiet. 

"You  tell  her  Mr.  Porter." 

"You  see,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  it  was  your  husband  who 
found  the  handkerchief  in  the  window,  the  one  your 
nephew  lost  on  the  haymow  and  which  later  on  made 
its  appearance  in  some  mysterious  way  fastened  to  the 
nail  in  the  window.  Later  Mr.  Bibbins  saw  the  necs- 
sity  of  doing  something  to  prevent  Ward  Ralph's  be- 
ing disturbed  until  he  was  fully  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  his  fall,  and  the  importance  of  giving  us  time 
to  clear  him  of  guilt  and  to  fasten  the  crime  upon  the 
real  culprit.  My  knowledge  of  your  hubsand  was 
sufficient  warrant  for  acting  in  concert  with  him, 
though  my  so  doing  was  exceedingly  irregular.  When 
Mr.  Goldsborough  and  Dr.  Gilbert  came  to  me  sep- 
arately with  similar  propositions  I  did  not  tell  them  of 
the  charge,  but  merely  of  the  fact  that  a  previous  war- 
rant had  been  sworn  out." 

He  turned  to  the  doctor.  "The  notorious  criminal 
is  still  in  your  care  isn't  he?  He  hasn't  escaped?" 
laughingly. 

Then  he  went  on  more  seriously.  "By  the  way, 
Dr.  Gilbert,  your  idea  of  the  left  handed  man  may  be 
something  more  than  a  mere  coincidence  after  all  — 
I  should-" 

"May  I  speak,  Mr.  Porter?"  It  was  Matthew 
Lowton  who  interrupted.  Everyone  looked  up  in  sur- 
prise. 

"Certainly,  Mr.—" 

"Lowton,  Matt  Lowton.     I'm  the  other  man." 

Mr.  Porter  sat  up  erect. 

"You  are  the  other  man?"  he  asked  perplexedly. 
"What  do  you  mean?  That  you  are  the  man  the 
peddler  saw  in  the  manger,  or  the  assailant?" 


278  FARMER  BIBBINS 

"Not  the  assailant,  but  the  man  in  the  manger.  And 
I  am  left  handed,  too.  So  is  your  nephew,  Mrs.  Bib- 
bins,  and  so  is  the  real  assailant.  Sounds  queer,  doesn't 
it?  The  left  handed  gang,"  he  laughed  somewhat 
hoarsely,  "Only  your  nephew  was  never  of  the  gang. 
Neither  was  it  the  blow  glancing  from  the  other  man's 
arm,  when  he  threw  the  iron  bar,  that  cracked  the 
Jew's  head." 

The  entire  group  was  thrown  into  the  greatest  as- 
tonishment. They  looked  at  Matt  in  open-eyed,  and 
in  some  instances,  open-mouthed,  wonder.  What  would 
he  say  next  they  were  all  wondering.  They  had  not 
long  to  wait. 

"I  am  not  going  to  give  away  names  now.  Later 
on,  if  I  have  to,  I  will.  I  doubt  if  any  of  you  need 
them.  No,  Ward  Ralph  is  not  guilty,  though  I  know 
he  thinks  he  is.  You  have  not  heard  all  that  the  old 
man  upstairs  might  tell  you.  Though  unless  I  am  mis- 
taken, he  has  all  he  ever  will  about  it.  When  he  was 
first  knocked  down,  he  lay  unconscious  for  a  minute 
perhaps,  but  no  longer.  When  he  came  to,  he  was 
dazed  and  hazy  all  right.  He  seemed  to  have  no  idea 
as  to  what  he  was  doing  or  what  the  rest  of  us  were 
doing.  He  got  up  and  "got  his"  pack-straps  over  his 
shoulders.  The  E — "  (Damn  it  under  his  breath,) 
"the  other  man  was  up  on  the  mow  looking  for  the  one 
who  had  thrown  the  bar,  intending  to  shoot  him.  I 
believe  this  was  his  object  although  at  the  time  I  did 
not  know,  in  fact  I  did  not  know  he  had  any  weapon 
until  I  saw  the  gun  knocked  out  of  his  hand." 

"But  the  man  who  threw  the  bar  had  slipped  off  the 
haymow  and  out  by  a  window,  not  the  one  where  you 
found  the  handkerchief  however,  but  one  higher  up. 
He  found  the  handkerchief  all  right,  probably  the 
sleeper  had  used  it  to  protect  his  face  from  the  hay, 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         279 

and  brought  it  back  with  him.  I  decided  to  keep  out 
of  sight,  indeed  I  had  an  idea  of  getting  away  before 
he  got  back  and  before  Mose  could  see  me  again.  I 
was  nearly  at  this  end  of  the  barn  floor,  when  on  look- 
ing back  I  saw  Mose  coming  with  his  pack.  Just  as 
I  was  turning  away  I  saw  right  in  back  of  the  jew  an 
upraised  arm  clutching  the  iron  bar.  I  jumped  back 
where  Mose  could  see  me  and  ran  toward  him,  but 
before  I  could  get  near  enough  to  stop  him,  the  man 
had  brought  the  iron  bar  down  on  Mose's  head  and 
knocked  him  out  for  sure. 

"The  man  then  turned  around,  ran  for  a  rear  door, 
jumped  into  his,  or  rather  my  buggy  and  drove  out  of 
the  yard  and  down  the  road  toward  the  Kendall  farm. 

"I  supposed  Mose  was  dead,  and  started  to  get 
away,  but  was  prevented  by  hearing  your  men  down 
the  lane  as  they  were  bringing  up  the  cows  for  milk- 
ing. I  hid  in  the  barn  until  long  after  dark,  and  then 
got  away.  Just  as  I  was  leaving  I  saw  the  other  man 
come  back  and  hide  in  your  yard,  Farmer  Bibbins,  be- 
hind a  tree  down  toward  the  Willows.  I,  as  well  as 
he,  overheard  Dr.  Gilbert  tell  Charley  here  to  keep 
his  eyes  open  and  report  at  the  Willows  whenever  he 
had  any  news.  There  is  no  good  in  my  going  over  the 
story,  you  all  know  it  now,  even  to  my  clearing  out  and 
leaving  the  factory  logs  unsawed.  The  fact  is  I  was 
scared  stiff.  The  old  man  had  it  in  for  you,  Farmer 
Bibbins,  for  some  cause,  ever  since  you  bought  the 
Staples  place,  and  he  threatened  to  take  everything 
away  from  me  if  I  cut  your  lumber.  So  I  cleared  out 
until — Mose  brought  me  back. 

"Now,  Mr.  Porter,  I  am  ready  to  go  with  you  any 
time  you  are  ready  to  start,  whether  you  have  a  war- 
rant for  me  or  not?" 

"Mr.  Lowton,  I  need  not  tell  you  that  your  position 


280  FARMER  BIBBINS 

is  a  grave  one,  but  as  you  came  back  voluntarily,  like- 
wise volunteered  your  story  here  in  the  presence  of 
many  reliable  witnesses,  and  there  being  no  warrant 
out  for  you,  I  shall  trust  to  your  honor,  and  the  as- 
surance of  Farmer  Bibbins  that  you  will  not  leave  this 
vicinity.  Mr.  Bibbins  needs  you  in  the  mill,  as  I  un- 
derstand it,  and  as  you  are  guilty  of  nothing  definite 
unless  it  be  as  an  accessory,  it  will  depend  largely  upon 
Mr.  Goldsborough  whether  you  are  arrested  or  not. 
Do  you  give  me  your  word  that  you  will  not  leave  this 
farm?" 

"I  can't  do  that  and  help  Mr.  Bibbins,  for  the  mill 
is  not  on  the  farm,  but  I'll  agree  to  go  nowhere  with- 
out his  knowledge  and  consent  if  that  will  answer." 

"It  will." 

"Have  you  any  further  need  of  me,  Mr.  Porter? 
If  not,  I  guess  I'll  be  going  back  to  the  mill,"  and 
started  to  leave  the  room. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,  Matt,  do  you  mind  if  I  ask  you 
one  or  two  questions?"  asked  Doctor  Gilbert. 

"No,  I  don't  mind  you  asking  them,  though  I  may 
not  answer  them.  It  will  depend  on  the  questions." 

"I  merely  want  to  know  about  that  rig — the  one 
you  used  to  own,  you  know.  Has  its  present  possessor 
any  right  to  it,  or  any  equity  in  it?" 

"Not  in  the  least.  He  got  it  by  black  mailing  me. 
He  never  gave  me  a  cent  for  it." 

"Then  how  is  it  that  he  wanted  to  put  it  up  with  his 
own  horse  as  security  to  Mose  for  the  loan,  the  re- 
fusal of  which  brought  on  the  quarrel?" 

"Well  you  see,  if  he  succeeded  with  Mose  I  was  to 
have  part  of  the  money  in  payment  for  the  horse  and 
buggy,  though  my  share  would  not  have  been  a  half 
of  their  value.  The  rest  of  the  loan  he  wanted  for 
himself." 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         28 1 

"For  what  purpose?" 

"You  mean  the  Elder?  There!  Da — excuse  me 
Mrs.  Bibbins,  well  you  all  know  it  anyway,  so  that  I 
don't  see  how  it  matters  much." 

"Not  in  the  least,  Matt.  Mr.  Porter  knows  from 
my  statements  that  we  mean  his  reverence.  My  ques- 
tion now,  what  did  he  want  of  the  money?" 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  keep  mum,  but  the  old  cuss 
has  tried  every  way  to  drag  me  into  this  business,  so 
I  don't  mind  saying  that  it  was  to  make  up  some  fund 
belonging  to  his  church  that  he  had  used  for  himself 
and  a  young  woman.  What  he  told  Mose  he  wanted  it 
for,  I  don't  know,  perhaps  the  true  reason;  I  know  that 
was  it,  anyway." 

"Do  you  care  to  tell  us  why  you  were  willing  to  let 
the  Elder  have  your  horse  and  carriage  for  so  much 
less  than  their  real  value?  lou  need  not,  unless  you 
wish  to,  Matt." 

"I  can't  tell,  not  now,  Doctor,"  glancing  apprehen- 
sively toward  Mrs.  Bibbins.  "I  may  later." 

"All  right,  Matt,  it's  your  affair.  I  beg  your  par- 
don for  asking  you." 

Here  Maggie  called  Mrs.  Bibbins,  who  returned  a 
moment  later  with  the  announcement  that  dinner  was 
on  the  table. 

"Come  everybody,"  she  invited,  "I  know  you  are 
hungry  for  it's  two  hours  after  our  usual  dinner  time." 

Every  one  went  into  the  dining  room  save  Matt, 
whom  neither  Wood  nor  Frances  could  persuade  to 
remain  for  dinner.  So  Wood  brought  him  his  coat 
and  hat  and  he  left  by  the  side  door  for  the  saw  mill. 

Dr.  Gilbert  went  up  to  see  Mose.  He  reported 
that  he  was  already  asleep  and  that  from  his  appear- 
ance and  labored  breathing  he  was  afraid  the  old  man 
was  elected  for  another  stay  with  Frances.  However, 


282  FARMER  BIBBINS 

not  wishing  to  frighten  his  friends,  he  explained  that 
on  account  of  his  apparent  condition,  manifested  in 
a  drawn,  pallid  and  haggard  face,  he  thought  best  to 
keep  him  in  his  bed  for  a  few  days  until  he  should  re- 
gain his  strength.  Unpleasant  news  was  this  for  Fran- 
ces and  Wood,  not  because  his  care  meant  added  re- 
sponsibility (preferring  it  rather  than  to  have  it  as- 
sumed by  others)  but  because  they  had  grown  to  love 
him.  To  prevent  her  anxiety  from  casting  a  shadow 
over  the  meal — for  an  awkward  silence  followed  Dr. 
Gilbert's  report— Mrs.  Bibbins  turned  to  Mr.  Portei 
when  they  were  all  seated,  and  asked:— 

"Do  you  number  Mose  among  your  old  friends,  Mr. 
Porter?" 

"Well,"  he  replied,  "until  today  I  can't  say  that  I 
have,  for  I've  hardly  thought  of  him  as  a  friend  at 
all.  I  knew  him,  but  it  is  only  since  this  affair  started 
that  I  have  had  any  relations,  professional  or  other- 
wise, with  him.  It  is  but  recently  that  he  became  my 
client.  He  has  the  reputation  of  being  a  fine  old  chap, 
and  something  of  a  scholar  as  well.  Several  times 
he  has  served  as  court  interpreter,  though  I  have  never 
employed  him  myself.  I  hope  to  know  him  better  and 
no  doubt  I  shall  for  he  has  placed  his  affairs  in  my 
hands." 

He  looked  knowingly  at  her.  "Have  you  known 
him  long?"  he  asked. 

"For  years;  ever  since  he  began  peddling  though 
never  so  intimately.  He  was  always  extremely  reserv- 
ed until  his  injury.  But,"  here  her  eyes  twinkled  mis- 
chievously, "if  my  husband  were  not  so  jealous  of  me, 
I  should  say  that  I  had  learned  to  love  him.  He  is 
the  dearest,  kindest,  most  charitable,  old  man  I  ever 
knew.  You  should  see  the  present  he  gave  me  a  few 
days  ago.  He  said  it  was  not  from  himself  but  from 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         283 

one  like  me  who  is  lying  on  a  hill  above  Moscow," 
soberly  with  softened  tones.  "I'll  show  you  both  the 
present  and  the  note  of  presentation  after  dinner." 

He  noticed  that  her  voice  trembled  as  she  spoke, 
and  after  giving  her  a  quick  glance,  replied:  — 

"Thank  you,  I  shall  be  both  honored  and  delighted. 
By  the  way,  Madam,  and  gentlemen—"  Mr.  Porter 
suddenly  pushed  aside  his  knife  and  fork  and  stood 
up.  "With  your  permission,  I  would  offer  a  toast,  the 
gentlemen  all  standing." 

Every  man  stood  up,  each  holding  a  glass  of  water. 

"To  our  hostess,"  he  said,  sipping  the  water  and 
bowing  to  Mrs.  Bibbins.  Before  anyone  could  resume 
his  seat,  he  went  on:— 

"With  your  permission,  dear  Madam,  and  before 
the  doctor  responds  to  the  next  sentiment,  which  I 
request  him  to  do,  I  wish  to  call  your  attention  to  an 
unusual  sentiment  one  which  was  non-existent  to  me 
until  quite  recently.  We  have  within  the  hour  listened 
to  a  part  of  the  story  of  a  crime  from  the  lips  of  its 
victim.  It  occurs  to  me  now  that  the  young  man— I 
do  not  see  him  present"— looking  around  the  table 
for  Matt— "who  completed  that  story  must  have  first 
recognized  what  I  am  about  to  speak  of — though  per- 
haps in  not  quite  the  same  light.  It  is  seldom  that  one 
hears  the  victim  of  a  murderous  assault  speak — as  we 
have  heard  one  speak  today— only  the  words  that  pro- 
claim the  innocence  of  the  innocent  and  that  shield  the 
guilt  of  the  guilty.  It  comes  to  me  like  the  revelation 
of  a  new  humanity,  and  assures  me  as  it  must  each 
of  you,  that  the  divinity  of  man  is  always  true,  though 
too  often  hidden  in  lowly  breasts.  Until  the  present, 
I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  have  felt  little  sympathy  for  the 
Jew  as  a  man,  and  less  perhaps  for  the  humanity  of 
the  itinerant  Jew  when  a  peddler.  But  henceforth, 


284  FARMER  BIBBINS 

my  head  is  bared  to  that  man,  who  today  has  given 
me  the  greatest  example  of  real  humanity  I  have  ever 
seen,  and  a  new  definition  for  Compassion,  for  Mercy, 
for  Charity,  and  for  Truth,  such  as  I  had  never  dream- 
ed possible  in  this  life.  I  refer  to  that  which  Mr. 
Goldsborough  did  not  tell  us.  Dr.  Gilbert,  we  await 
your  pleasure." 

Dr.  Gilbert  raised  his  glass.  "It  would  take  the 
best  thought  of  the  best  and  brainiest  man  to  frame  a 
sentiment  worthy  of  our  Hebrew  friend,"  he  said, 
pausing  a  moment  before  continuing:— 

"To  Mose;  the  peddler,  the  scholar,  and  the  man; 
who  forgave  your  enemy  and  by  your  silence  denied 
his  guilt;  in  the  universal  drink  of  all  life  we  drink  to 
your  universal  love  of  all  men." 

"Fine,  Doctor,  splendid!  I  knew  you  could  do  it," 
exclaimed  the  lawyer  as  he  sat  down  with  the  others. 
"Now,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  I  am  going  to  show  you  what  a 
Riverton  appetite  is.  After  I  am  through  you  will  al- 
ways remember  what  it  is  like." 

While  nothing  direct  had  been  said  or  promised, 
and  everyone  knew  that  no  definite  assurance  or  prom- 
ise could  be  made  as  to  the  outcome  of  the  affair,  still 
there  was  a  lightness  of  spirit  in  the  conversation 
around  the  board.  The  very  atmosphere  seemed  chang- 
ed from  that  in  the  same  room  earlier  in  the  morning, 
and  Frances  grew  more  cheerful  and  free  from  the 
constraint  of  anxiety.  Her  "boy"  was  certainly  in  no 
danger  from  the  law  now.  What  Mose  had  said,  and 
its  confirmation  by  Matt,  together  with  the  additional 
information  given  by  the  latter,  eliminated  the  possibil- 
ity of  his  being  charged  with  the  crime  or  held  re- 
sponsible in  any  way  for  it. 

The  others  were  enjoying  themselves  immensely, 
especially  Dr.  Gilbert,  who  found  great  sport  in  prod- 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         285 

ding  Farmer  Bibbins  with  his  "villainy"  in  swearing 
out  a  warrant  for  "trespass"  against  Ward.  Thus  in 
jokes  and  laughter  the  dinner  proceeded  until  everyone 
had  had  his  fill  and  Mr.  Porter  had  really  shown  that 
a  Riverton  appetite  was  not  so  unlike  that  of  the  rest 
of  the  county.  They  were  about  to  rise  from  the  table, 
when  Farmer  Bibbins  in  looking  toward  the  window, 
saw  someone  driving  into  the  yard  in  a  fine  "top 
buggy,"  apparently  new.  The  driver  had  a  splendid 
animal  hitched  to  the  buggy  and  was  leading  another. 
A  more  careful  inspection  of  the  one  which  was  being 
led,  revealed  its  close  resemblance  to  the  horse  which 
Mr.  Simmons  had  driven  over  earlier  in  the  day. 

"Now  what  in  the  world  has  he  been  up  to?"  Wood 
said. 

"Who?"  they  all  inquired  at  once,  for  none  of  the 
others  had  seen  what  he  had,  and  knew  naught  of 
what  it  meant. 

"Simmons,"  he  said,  "Bert  Simmons;  he's  driving 
into  the  yard  with  what  looks  like  a  new  horse  and 
carriage,  leading  the  very  horse  he  drove  over  here  this 
morning." 

Frances  spoke  up.  "Why  I  had  utterly  forgotten 
Mr.  Simmons.  He  must—  !  Now,  you  !  here  !  what 
in  the  world?  Dr.  Gilbert?  Stop  it!"  As  if  he  could, 
or  that  he  was  nearly  choking  himself  to  death  for  the 
mere  fun  of  it. 

"Wood,  pound  his  back!  harder,  there!"  as  a  tre- 
mendous blow  from  the  open  hand  of  Farmer  Bibbins 
which  all  but  knocked  Dr.  Gilbert  from  his  chair,  re- 
lieved him  from  the  piece  of  fruit  cake  lodged  in  his 
"wind-pipe"  ns  he  later  explained.  But  no  sooner  had 
relief  come  to  him  from  the  blow  than  he  returned  it 
with  interest  and  roared  with  laughter  until  the  dishes 
rattled  on  the  table. 


286  FARMER  BIBBINS 

Finally  after  Mr.  Porter  and  Chase  had  decided 
that  he  had  not  gone  mad  but  if  left  alone  might  come 
to  his  senses  again  and  tell  the  joke,  they  joined  with 
the  rest  and  laughed  as  they  had  seldom  laughed  in 
their  whole  lives.  Still  not  one,  save  the  doctor,  knew 
the  reason  for  the  sudden  outburst. 

Frances  was  first  to  control  herself,  though  all  were 
more  or  less  subsiding  when  the  Bird,  broadly  grin- 
ning, opened  the  door  from  the  work-kitchen  and  step- 
ped into  the  dining  room. 

"Wai!  Fl  be  gol  derned !  watinell !  I  mean  tunket, 
— 'scuse  me,  Misses  Bibbins — but  hev  ye  all  gone 
ravin'  crazy,  or  air  ye  jes'  hevin'  a  leetle  camp  meetin' 
on  yer  own  a'count?  On'y  ye  orter  cry  n'  not  laff  ner 
look  happy  nun,  'f  ye  air,  cos  ye— Wei  I'l  be  gol  dern- 
ed 'f  I  know  what  tiz,  but  'f  Ys  ez  bad  ez  all  that  I 
guess  I'l  laff  too,  by  gosh !"  and  he  did,  working  his 
way  over  to  Dr.  Gilbert  upon  whose  back  his  hand  fell 
with  no  other  apparent  effect  than  to  make  that  gen- 
tleman laugh  the  harder — if  that  were  possible.  Mr. 
Porter  had  collapsed  into  an  old  Boston  rocker  in  the 
corner  trying  his  best  to  control  himself  by  holding  his 
sides,  and  longing  to  find  out  what  it  was  all  about,  for 
he  had  not  the  slightest  idea  what  had  started  the  doc- 
tor; he  only  knew  that  the  doctor  had  started  him, 
as  well  as  the  others. 

Bert's  advent  finally  broke  the  grip  of  their  mirth 
for  a  moment,  as  he  had  been  the  unconscious  creator 
of  it.  The  doctor  was  the  last  to  subside,  though  when 
he  tried  to  stop  one  look  at  Bert  started  him  off  again, 
so  that  it  was  some  minutes  after  Frances  went  to  see 
if  their  boisterous  outbreak  had  disturbed  her  patients 
before  he  could  give  them  a  reason  other  than  by 
pointing  to  Mr.  Simmons. 

"Tell  them  where  you  have  been,  and  what  you  were 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         287 

doing,  Bert.  I  can't;  I  haven't  strength  enough  left  to 
do  it  anyway;  besides  I  don't  know,"  he  said  finally 
with  a  sheepish  look. 

"You  don't  know?"  asked  Frances.  She  had  re- 
turned with  the  announcement  that  in  spite  of  the  noise 
the  afflicted  were  one  and  all  asleep. 

"I  really  do  not  know,  Mrs.  Bibbins,"  acknowl- 
edged the  doctor,  the  absurdity  of  which  came  near 
setting  them  all  going  once  more. 

"D'ye  mean  't  tell  me,  all  on  ye,  'nat  nun  o'  ye  know- 
ed  what  aryone  o'  ye  wuz  a  laffin'  at?"  asked  Bert  in 
utter  amazement.  Then  as  the  ridiculous  aspect  of  it 
dawned  upon  him,  he  exclaimed;  "Whal,  I'l  be,—' 
and  burst  into  a  fit  of  such  heart-breaking,  bellowing, 
mirth  on  his  own  account  that  Mr.  Porter  when  speak- 
ing of  it  later  to  his  fellow  clubites  said  that  there  was 
more  real  genuine  fun  in  Bert  Simmons  than  in  a  dozen 
Dr.  Gilberts,  and  that  Dr.  Gilbert  possessed  more 
alone  than  all  the  members  of  the  club  together.  It's 
well  known  that  laughter  is  contagious,  and  Mr.  Por- 
ter demonstrated  that  it  is  also  infectious  (if  there  is 
a  difference,  which  no  doubt  there  is.)  For  no  sooner 
had  he  recited  the  events  of  the  day  at  Farmer  Bib- 
bins'  (leaving  out  all  mention  of  his  own  willing  com- 
plicity in  the  more  serious  phase  of  it)  than  the  laugh- 
ter which  Dr.  Gilbert  started  that  afternoon  miles 
away  in  the  Bibbins'  dining  room  broke  out  anew  in  the 
city  club  at  ten  of  the  clock  that  night  at  Riverton. 

"Thar,  I  feel  sum  bettern'  I  did;  an'  I  wuzn't  feelin' 
so  gol  dern  bad  afore,  neether,"  said  Mr.  Simmons 
when  having  discharged  the  last  blast  of  his  joy,  he  sat 
up  and  mopped  the  perspiration  from  his  face.  "Ye 
see  folks,"  somewhat  apologetically,  "  't  jes'  struck 
me  all-fired  funny  when  ye  up  an'  tol'  me  nun  o'  ye 
knowed  what  airy  one  o'  ye  wuz  a  laffin'  at,  'nat  I  jes' 


288  FARMER  BIBBINS 

loosen'd  my  belly-ban'  a  hole,  an'  let  her  fly— at— at 
air, — say,  Doc,  damit  all,  wuz  I  —  'scuse  me,  Misses 
Bibbins,  but  I'l  be  hornswaggled  'f— say  I  dunno  no 
morn'  nor  the  res'  o'  ye,  'nat  iz  I  mean  fer  t'  say  ye 
dunno  no  morn'  nor  I — say  gol  dern  't  whatever's  the 
hull  caboodle  on  ye  a  laffin'  at  now?"  Noticing  that 
the  fresh  outbreak  was  preventing  any  reply  to  his 
question,  he  sat  down  and  once  more  outlaughed  them 
all. 

The  strain  of  the  earlier  events  of  the  day,  together 
with  this  body-racking,  mind-stampeding  laughter 
was  more  than  Frances  could  endure.  She  was  rapidly 
becoming  hysterical  and  so  sought  safety  in  flight.  Bert 
alone  retained  his  chair,  as  he  was  also  first  to  regain 
sobriety.  None  but  the  doctor  and  himself  really  knew 
the  cause  of  that  whirlwind  of  mirth,  though  Wood 
upon  recalling  the  doctor's  manner  when  he  returned 
from  his  search  for  Bert,  and  his  own  uncertain  rec- 
ognition of  the  rig  he  had  seen  pass  the  window,  was 
beginning  to  understand  with  increasing  admiration 
for  his  young  friend  and  neighbor. 

When  quiet  was  fully  restored,  Farmer  Bibbins  turn- 
ed to  Bert  and  asked:  — 

"Do  you  mind  telling  us,  Bert,  how  much  you  paid 
for  the  Elder's  horse  and  buggy?" 

Bert  gasped.  He  glanced  apprehensively  at  Mr. 
Porter,  then  at  Chase,  at  Dr.  Gilbert,  and  Charley, 
finally  turning  his  open-eyed  gaze  to  Farmer  Bibbins. 
During  this  process,  his  momentary  look  of  apprehen- 
sion changed  to  one  of  conscious  cunning. 

"Wai,"  he  finally  replied,  "ye  see  I  ain't  'zactly 
bo't  no  hoss  an'  rig  o'  the  Elder  nun,  least  ways  I  ain't 
nun  sartain  't's  fer  myself.  Ye  see  Mose  tho't  Doc 
had  tuk  sort  o'  a  shine  t'  the  Elder's  outfit,  an'. so  tother 
day  he  up  and  sez  to  me,  he  sez,  sez  he,  'Bert,'  he  sez, 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         289 

'here's  five  hundred  dollars.  'F  at  eny  time  ye  think 
the  Elder  might  need  a  leetle  reddy  cash,  ye  might 
see  what  he'd  take  fer  the  mare  and  buggy.'  On'y  he 
sez  to  me,  he  sez,  'Bert,'  he  sez,  'don't  gin  him  morn' 
a  hundred  on  't,  cos  taint  his  nun.  It  really  b'longs 
to  Matt,  an'  gin  the  rest  t'  Matt,  pervidin'  ye  hev 
'casion  t'  buy  it  sum.'  So  ez  I  knowed  myself  'nat 
Doc'  thar  wanted  the  rig,  an'  rather  'expectin'  the 
Elder'd  sorter  like  t'  visit  his  folks  in  Kandidy  'bout 
now,  an'  fearin'  he  might  jes'  ez  likely  sell  it  t'  sum- 
mun  else  'f  I  waited,  I  tho't  seein'  whilst  I  wuz  at  the 
village  this  mornin',  I'd  sorter  call  on  the  Elder  an' 
fin'  out  'bout  his  goin'  away  an'  wantin'  t'  sell  out.  I 
didn'  hev  eny  call  t'  mix  in  this  conflab  nun  'bout  Mose 
an'  yer  neffy,  an'  Matt,  an'  seein'  twant  nun  o'  my 
bizness,  I  sez,  sez  I  t'  myself  like,  I  sez,  'Bert,  while 
these  yere  folkses  iz  a  discussin'  thin's  ye  ain't  con- 
sarned  in  nun,  spose  ye  go  an'  git  Lista's  ginger  an' 
saleratus,  cos  ye  ain't  goin'  t'  hev  no  time  afterwards.' 
Ye  see,  gents,  the  sleighin's  purty  bad,  an'  the  wheelin's 
worse,  so  I  sez  t'  myself,  'spose  ye  go  hossback,  'nen 
'f  the  Elder  s'ud  wanter  seil  t'  ye,  ye  wudn't  be  fisti- 
capped  nun,  in  bringin'  on  the  hull  caboodle  back  'ith 
ye." 

"  'Nat's  how  I  cum  to  be  cummin'  back  ez  I  did,  an' 
bringing'  the  rig  here  'ith  me,  cos  ye  see,  I  sez  to  my- 
self, I  sez,  'Bert,  'spose  now  ye've  bo't  the  gol  dern 
rig;  'spose  the  Doc  don'  want  it  nun?  whatsumever  ye 
goin'  t'  do  'ith  it?'  And  arter  a  minit,  I  sez  to  myself, 
I  sez  sez  I,  'BertV  give  the  gol  dern  thin'  to  Lista 
fer  a  Krismas  presunt.  Krismas  ain't  so  fer  off.'  An' 
I  will  t',  by  gosh,  'nless  Mose  an'  the  Doc  'nsists  ont' 
bein'  turned  over  t'  him.  What  d'ye  say,  Doc,  d'ye 
wan'  't,  or  shall  I  gin  't  t'  Lista?" 

"To  your  wife,  Bert,  by  all  means.     I  am  mighty 


290  FARMER  BIBBINS 

glad  you  had  head  enough  to  see  what  I  had  overlook- 
ed entirely.  I  knew  the  Elder  was  going  away,"  with 
a  knowing  look  at  the  young  farmer,  "and  would  want 
to  sell  out.  But  what  has  he  done  with  his  other  two 
horses?" 

"He  sol'  'em  t'  Mister  Kendall  yest'dy." 

"One  moment,  gentlemen;  are  you  speaking  of  the 
man  who  assaulted  Mr.  Goldsborough  ?"  the  lawyer 
inquired. 

"We  are,  Mr.  Porter.     Why?" 

"Because  it  seems  to  me  that  you  two  gentlemen,  or 
rather  Mr.  Simmons  alone,  has  provided  him  with 
means  for  leaving  the  country  before  he  can  be  ar- 
rested." 

"  'Rested  fer  what?"  from  the  innocent  Bert. 

"For  assault,  with  intent  to  kill,  upon  Mr.  Golds- 
borough." 

"  'Salt  fer  t'  kill  Mose?"  in  astonishment  that  fool- 
ed even  the  doctor.  "I  tho't  'twas  the  young  feller, 
Ward,  what  dun  't?" 

"No,  he  only  knocked  him  down  for  a  minute;  when 
trying  to  prevent  this  preacher  from  shooting  Mose 
at  that.  Ralph  thought  he  did  it,  and  does  yet,  unless 
Mrs.  Bibbins  has  informed  him  of  the  facts.  But  in 
reality  it  was  some  minutes  later  when  the  Elder 
struck  the  old  man  with  the  bar  of  iron  while  he  was 
trying  to  escape  to  the  house.  That  young  man  who 
was  here— Matthew?— yes,  Matthew,  saw  it  all  and 
has  recounted  the  whole  matter  to  us  since  you  have 
been  away,  and  now  you  have  supplied  the  guilty  man 
with  the  means  of  escaping.  I  am  not  sure,  Mr.  Sim- 
mons, that  you  have  not  placed  yourself  in  a  very  seri- 
ous position  by  what  you  have  done;  it  has  the  nature 
of  compounding  a  felony." 

"Who  me?"   placidly. 


MATTHEW  LOWTON  SPEAKS         29 1 

"Yes." 

"Wai,  I'l  be  gol  derned,"  but  there  was  no  concern 
either  in  his  word,  manner,  or  look  when  a  moment 
later  he  carelessly  turned  his  back  to  Mr.  Porter  and 
glanced  toward  Dr.  Gilbert.  He  gave  that  man  of 
science  an  embarrassing  shock  by  distorting  his  face  m 
a  most  ludicrous  effort  intended  for  a  wink. 

"Wai,  Mr.  Porter,"  once  more  facing  him,  "I  got- 
ter  be  a  goin'  hum,  'ith  Lista's  ginger  an'  saleratus, 
but  'f  ye  want  me  't  eny  time  fer  confounding  felons, 
I'm  mos'  allus  t'  hum,  so's  ye  kin  fin'  me.  An'  'f  ye 
don'  mind,  Farmer  Bibbins,  I'l  leave  the  Elder's  hoss 
an'  buggy  in  your  barn  fer  a  spell,  seein'  I  got  nuther 
t'  git  hum  'ith.  'Scuse  me  to  Misses  Bibbins,  an'  good 
day  to  ye,  gentlemen,  I'l  see  ye  later  'bout  the  hoss," 
and  he  was  gone. 

For  a  moment  there  was  nothing  said.  Finally 
after  an  uneasy,  undecided  moving  about  in  his  chair, 
Mr.  Porter  burst  out  laughing.  "Wai,  I'l  be  gol  dern- 
ed," he  said  mimicking  the  departed  Bert,  "if  that  fel- 
low could  have  been  educated  properly,  he  would  have 
been  the  greatest  man  in  the  State.  And  I'm  going  to 
tell  him  so,  now,"  and  he  went  to  the  barn.  It  was 
evident  that  his  talk  there  did  not  change  his  expressed 
opinion,  for  when  he  returned  to  the  house  his  face 
was  wreathed  in  smiles  and  beaming  with  cheer  and 
satisfaction.  He  stood  facing  the  fire  and  looking  down 
at  it,  rubbing  his  hands  and  chuckling,  finally;  — 

"What  do  you  suppose  that  fellow  said  to  me  just 
now  as  he  drove  away?  Well,  he  got  into  his  wagon, 
looked  under  the  seat,  and  then  grinning  like  a  great 
innocent  lout  at  some  obvious  joke,  looked  at  me  and 
said,  'I'l  be  gol  derned  'f  I  ain't  gone  an'  fergot  Lista's 
ginger  an'  saleratus.' ' 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  EXIT  OF  THE  ELDER 

IT  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  Dr. 
Gilbert,  the  last  of  those  who  had  gathered  at  the 
Bibbins  farm  house,  left  for  the  daily  round  to 
his  patients.     A  fine  snow,  which  continued  dur- 
ing the  evening,  was  falling  and  as  the  roads  were  al- 
ready bad  for  either  sleigh  or  buggy  they  were  well 
nigh  impossible  for  the  latter  by  the  time  he  reached 
his  house  at  Madran  sometime  after  eleven  that  night. 

"Hello,"  he  called,  as  his  horse  paused  nosing  the 
stable  door,  which  was  immediately  opened  by  his  man 
who  had  awaited  his  coming  in  the  small  warm  office- 
like  room  in  a  corner  of  the  barn,  where  he  slept  for 
the  convenience  of  himself  and  the  doctor. 

"Hello,  Doctor,  pretty  bad  wheeling,  isn't  it?"  he 
said,  leading  the  horse  onto  the  floor  and  rubbing  the 
fine  snow  from  her  forelock  at  the  same  time. 

"I  saw  a  light  in  the  office.  Anyone  waiting  for 
me?" 

"Yes,  a  friend  of  yours.  He's  been  waiting  since 
noon,  or  a  little  after." 

"A  friend  of  mine?     Who?" 

"Elder  Coffee." 

"Elder  Coffee!  I  thought  he'd— why  what  does  he 
want  of  me?" 

"Dunno,  only  he  said  he'd  wait  for  to  see  you,  an' 
he  has.  He  acted  so  darn  queer,  I've  been  with  him 
most  of  the  time  for  fear  he'd  do  somethin',  an'  he 
has,"  laughing  gently.  "He's  gone  to  sleep,  drunker'n 
a  biled  owl." 

292 


EXIT  OF  THE  ELDER  293 

"Drunk?  The  Elder  drunk?  and  asleep  in  my  office 
at  midnight!  How  did  he  get  drunk?" 

"He's  got  a  bottle  alright.  Every  time  I  had  to 
leave  him  for  a  moment  he'd  take  a  nip,  cause  I  could 
smell  it  fresh  like  on  him  when  I'd  come  back." 

The  doctor  waited  for  no  more.  "Bring  my  cases 
in,  Bates,  when  you're  through,"  he  said,  and  went  to 
the  house.  As  he  came  into  the  office  from  his  private 
entrance,  he  paused.  On  his  couch  in  the  alcove,  with 
the  curtains  drawn  so  that  he  was  in  plain  view,  sat 
the  Elder,  swinging  his  arms  and  preaching  to  an  im- 
aginary—or was  it  a  spirituously  gathered— congrega- 
tion! 

Dr.  Gilbert  drew  up  a  chair,  took  a  cigar  from  a 
convenient  box,  and  settled  himself  for  a  comfortable 
smoke.  Whether  the  Elder  was  conscious  of  some 
unseemly  disturbance  in  his  congregation,  or  merely 
recognized  the  doctor  as  a  "late  comer"  and  paused  in 
his  discourse  until  the  intruder  had  found  a  pew,  is 
not  known.  But  pause  he  did  until  the  doctor,  who 
was  too  tired  to  resent  the  other's  condition,  or  too 
eager  to  hear  something  of  moment  regarding  the  El- 
der's past  doings  and  future  intentions,  said:— 

"Fire  away,  Elder,  I'm  sorry  to  disturb  you,"  when 
he  resumed. 

"Thash  it!  Thash  what  I  allush  shed,  fire!  brim- 
sthone  and,  ah,  an  Damnashun  for  all  you,  hie,  godly 
speshimuns  of  that  daypraved  and  shinless  humanity 
of  thish  god-like  communict-tyty,  in  which  I  am  an  un- 
godly minishter  of  that  utterly  daypraved  Gospel  that 
I've  allus  practished  among  you !  An'  whash  the— the 
reshult?  The  reshult  is— hie— that  I've  been  diverted 
from  the  straight  and  narrer  way  until,  hie — I'm  ash 
crooked  in  everyshing  as  I,  I,— mean  that  you  ungodly 
speshimuns  of  that  utterly  ungodly  daypravity  of  this 


294  FARMER  BIBBINS 

shinless  communitic — tity  are  ash  crooked  ash  I  ought 
to  be  sthraight.  Thash  one  reshult  of  your  gossishply 
practish  of  bringing  dishpershion  upon  the  sakerd  call- 
ing I  am  sho  quick  to  forget.  Thash  'nother  reshult. 
The  innoshent  flee— when — no  man  'cept  myself  climb 
the  ladder — no,  thash  not  what  I  mean  (this  some- 
what hurriedly,)  I  mean  that  my  daypraved  humanity 
is  brushed  and  croken  in  this  godless  dispershun  of  my 
sakerd  call — hie — ling,  and  thash  'nother  reshult— ic!" 

"Fire  !  sesh  you,  and  I  sesh  Fire  !  Hell-fire  !  where 
the  worms  are  not  quenched,  and  the  fire  put  out,  'till 
the  heat— 'till  the  heat  ish— ah,— yes,  till  the  heat  ish 
finished  and  the  poel  hoss  gets  the— hie — flag,  which 
ish  according  to  that  Goshpel  I  — ah,  seldom  practish- 
ed  because  of  the  ungodly  daypravity  of  my  sakerd 
calling.  Thash  it !  The  heat  is  won  by  the  tail  hoss, 
which  makesh  the  lasht  hoss  fust,  and  the  pole  hoss 
lasht  in  the  rasch  of  daypraved  and  dispershed  hu- 
manity. Now,  my  dear  feller  shinners,  I  — 

But  Dr.  Gilbert  could  endure  no  more.  Elder  Cof- 
fee was  too  shamefully  (to  the  doctor  and  shamelessly 
to  himself)  drunk  to  know  what  he  was  saying.  The 
doctor  took  him  by  the  collar,  jerked  him  to  his  feet, 
and  then  shook  him  till  his  few  remaining  teeth  were 
threatened. 

"Come,  Elder,  come  out  of  it,  you  'poor  daypraved 
specimen  of  humanity.'  I've  heard  enough  unless  you 
really  have  something  to  say  to  me.  Come,  wake  up 
man,  do  you  know  where  you  are?" 

"Shertinly,  I  know  I  am  where  I  are,  don't  shoo?" 
he  said,  lurching  and  staggering  under  the  doctor's 
direction  toward  a  large  semi-surgical  chair  where  he 
would  be  quite  safe  if  the  doctor  could  once  get  him 
securely  strapped  into  it. 

"I  know  where  I  am,  though  it  don't  schmell  'zactly 


EXIT  OF  THE  ELDER  295 

shame  as  it  did  lasht  time,''  sniffing,  "schmells  lessh 
like  the  valley  of  Jehoshofat,  where  the  fire  ish  dead, 
and  the  worms  are  not  quensched.  Don't  you  think 
sho  yourself?"  here  he  looked  cunningly  at  the  man 
who  was  strapping  him  to  the  chair  as  if  trying  to 
recall  him;  then  he  suddenly  stiffened  and  took  on  his 
old  bearing  of  tolerance  toward  "daypraved"  human- 
ity. 

"I'm  sprised  to  shee  you  in  thish  condishun;  Doctor, 
take  a  shair,"  he  said. 

"Just  a  moment,  Elder,"  turning  to  the  case  of  in- 
struments, "I  want  to  give  you  something,  wait  just  a 
moment,"  quickly  loading  his  hypodermic  syringe. 
"Here  you  are,  can  you  pull  up  your  sleeve?  Just  a  lit- 
tle more;  that's  it,  there,"  he  said  as  the  Elder  winced 
with  pain  when  the  needle  penetrated  his  arm.  "You'll 
be  better  in  a  few  minutes.  I'm  sorry  to  see  you  like 
this,  Elder.  You  must  have  been  feeling  pretty  poorly." 

"Poorly?"  he  queried,  self -pityingly.  "I'm  here, 
shick,  shick  to  death,  Doctor  Bilgert,  shick  in  heart, 
shick  in  body,  and  shick  in  sperets.  My  sakerd  callin' 
has  been—"  here  he  burst  into  tears. 

While  waiting  the  result  of  his  ministration  Dr.  Gil- 
bert aired  the  room.  He  was  closing  the  windows 
when  Bates  came  in  with  his  case. 

"Pretty  well  'piflicated'  ain't  he?"  glancing  from  the 
sobbing  Elder  to  the  doctor. 

"He  certainly  is,  Bates.  I  am  both  glad  and  sorry 
that  you  permitted  him  to  stay;  glad  for  the  sake  of 
his  congregation,  but  sorry  for  my  office.  I  shall  have 
to  keep  him  now  until  he  can  go  away  unnoticed." 

"Have  you  no  idea  what  he  wants  of  me?" 

"Well,  you  see,  I  dunno  'zactly.  He  slept  several 
hours  and  hadn't  waked  up  when  I  left  him  a  little 
while  ago  to  look  after  the  stable.  I  think  he's  feared 


296  FARMER  BIBBINS 

of  bein'  arrested." 

"Arrested?"  wonderingly,  though  he  was  not  sur- 
prised, save  at  the  boy's  timely  guess  at  the  facts. 

"Yes  sir,  you  see  he  sold  all  his  horses  but  one  and 
his  buggy  a  day  or  two  ago,  to  Mr.  Kendall,  and  Mr. 
Kendall  was  down  here  today  looking  for  him.  It 
seems  that  they  both,  I  mean  the  horses,  had  the  heaves 
pretty  bad,  which  Mr.  Kendall  didn't  know  cos  the 
Elder  doctored  'em  up  pretty  strong  like  so  they  didn't 
show  'em  till  after  Kendall  had  'em  a  day  or  two.  And 
I  think  the  Elder  must  have  gotten  wind  of  it,  an'  come 
here  to  hide;  though  I  don't  know  cos  when  I  heard 
of  it  the  Elder  was  too  drunk,  and  also  asleep,  to  find 
out." 

The  doctor  was  silent  for  some  time.  "Bates,"  he 
said  when  the  Elder  had  ceased  sobbing  and  gone  to 
sleep,  "I  had  expected  to  put  the  Elder  on  the  couch 
there  to  sleep  off  his  intoxication;  I  gave  him  some- 
thing to  quiet  him,  after  strapping  him  in  the  chair. 
He  was  about  ready  to  run  amuck  when  I  came  in.  I 
hardly  liked  the  idea  of  his  having  a  spell  in  there," 
pointing  to  the  alcove.  "But  what  you  have  told  me 
changes  my  plans.  Will  you  keep  this  wholly  to 
yourself,  Bates,  and  do  me  and  the  Elder  too  a  per- 
sonal favor?" 

"I'll  do  my  best  to  please  you,  Doctor.  I  haven't  told 
a  soul,  and  'twas  to  keep  folks  from  knowin'  it  I  let 
him  stay  here.  What  do  you  want  of  me?" 

"I  want  you  to  put  the  bay  mares  to  the  sleigh  and 
take  this  man  to  the  Corners  for  the  early  North-bound 
train.  You  can  put  some  straw  and  blankets  in  the 
sleigh-box,  and  cover  him  with  some  robes  to  keep  him 
warm.  He'll  probably  sleep  through  it  all,  anyway. 
I  can't  explain  it,  but  we've  got  to  get  him  out  of  the 
country,  Bates.  I'll  see  his  wife,  and  also  that  he  has 


EXIT  OF  THE  ELDER  297 

enough  money  to  go  with.  You  get  him  a  ticket  and 
tell  the  conductor  to  take  him  right  through  to  the 
Canadian  Line.  If  he,"  indicating  the  preacher, 
"doesn't  care  to  cross,  that's  his  own  lookout.  We 
shall  have  done  all  we  can.  You'd  better  make  him 
walk  around  a  bit  before  you  see  him  on  the  train  and 
don't,  if  you  can  help  it,  let  anyone  see  you  except 
those  you  have  to  at  the  station.  Do  you  understand 
all  I  mean,  Bates?" 

"Yes  sir,  I'll  do  the  best  I  can,  Doctor." 

"All  right,  here's  money  for  his  ticket.  I'll  see  that 
he  has  some  in  his  pocket  by  the  time  you  are  ready. 
Now  hurry,  there  isn't  snow  enough  yet  to  delay  the 
train,  and  you'll  not  have  any  time  to  spare.  The 
roads  are  in  bad  shape." 

"What  about,-?" 

"What  is  it,  Bates?"  as  the  young  man  hesitated. 

"Getting  him  away  from  here  without  any  one  see- 
ing him,"  he  finished. 

"Oh,  we'll  take  him  out  the  back  way  to  the  barn 
when  you  are  ready.  It's  pretty  cold,  so  see  that  you 
are  well  wrapped  up." 

Bates  left,  while  Dr.  Gilbert  went  to  the  sleeping 
Elder  and  searched  his  pockets,  much  as  he  loathed  the 
necessity  of  so  doing.  He  found  about  three  hundred 
dollars,  half  of  which  he  took  with  the  quaint  remark. 
"This  belongs  to  Mrs.  Coffee,  and  while  I  may  like 
Bert  be  'confounding  a  felon'  I'll  take  the  risk  for  her 
sake,"  smiling  at  the  memory  of  Bert's  recent  remark 
to  Porter." 

He  then  wrote  a  short  note  explaining  what  he  had 
done,  with  certain  advice  about  keeping  away  from  a 
community  that  was  "utterly  daypraved  and  godless," 
making  definite  reference  to  one  substantial  reason 
why  he  should  absent  himself.  He  then  rolled  the  note 


298  FARMER  BIBBINS 

up  with  the  bills  which  he  restored  to  the  Elder's  capa- 
cious pocket  folder,  and  put  the  book  in  his  inside  coat 
pocket.  The  two  empty  "pints"  which  he  found  in 
the  outside  pockets  he  deposited  in  the  wastebasket. 

"There,  Elder,"  he  said,  "I  have  found  your  center 
of  gravity  after  all,  though  I  had  quite  despaired  of 
doing  so  until  recently." 

He  then  forced  the  Elder  to  swallow  a  gill  of  olive 
oil,  and  said; — 

"Come,  Elder,  wake  up.  You're  going  on  a  little 
journey  for  your  health,  understand?  Come  that's 
it,  don't  talk  back  now  Elder,  you  might  awaken  my 
housekeeper  you  know;  this  way,"  and  helped  him 
through  the  kitchen  and  out  to  the  barn.  There  he 
and  Bates  bundled  him  into  the  sleigh,  warmly  cov- 
ered him,  and  started  him  on  what  proved  to  be  his 
final  exit  from  Madran. 

"There,"  said  the  doctor  as  Bates  drove  out  of  the 
yard,  "I  may  not  have  been  faithful  to  my  office  as  a 
deputy  sheriff,  but  I  am  to  my  manhood,  which  is 
quite  sufficient." 

Then  Dr.  Gilbert  went  to  bed  and  slept  until  noon 
of  the  next  day. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

MR.  PORTER  CALLS  ON  HIS  CLIENT 

IT  was  late  in  April  and  a  large  number  of  the 
neighbors  had  gathered  to  assist  Farmer  Bibbins 
in  "raising"  the  frame  work  of  the  factory,  for 
which  the  lumber,  thanks  to  the  forethought  of 
Mose,  and  the  energy  of  Farmer  Bibbins  after  the  way 
was  cleared,  was  now  ready.  Young  Ralph  was  about, 
walking  with  only  a  slight  limp  which  was  gradually 
disappearing.  In  a  clerical  capacity  he  was  of  great 
assistance  to  his  Aunt  and  Uncle  who  now  looked  upon 
him  as  a  son.  His  technical  knowledge  was  also  drawn 
upon,  though  as  he  said  he  could  add  little  to  the  plans 
so  long  thought  out  in  Farmer  Bibbins'  quiet  method 
of  perfecting  the  second  desire  of  his  heart.  The  first, 
so  Ward  said  as  he  kissed  his  Aunt,  was  born  perfect. 
Since  that  first  day  when  Mr.  Porter  in  response  to 
Wood's  request  came,  and  they  had  listened  to  the  re- 
ports and  explanations,  nothing  had  been  said  or  done 
by  the  authorities  in  reference  to  the  injury  to  Mose. 
In  fact  there  was  nothing  they  could  do.  Mose  was 
still  with  his  friends  and  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Gilbert, 
but  he  positively  refused  to  recognize  the  story  of 
Matt  as  in  any  way  even  bordering  upon  the  truth. 
Nor  would  he  permit  Mr.  Porter  to  talk  upon  the  sub- 
ject when  that  gentleman  came  to  see  him  several  times 
on  professional  matters,  save  that  he  always  insisted 
that  his  present  illness  was  in  no  way  traceable  to  that 
injury,  but  to  the  smoke  he  inhaled  at  the  time  of  the 
Lowton  fire.  When  the  matter  was  mentioned  by  Mr. 
Porter  to  Dr.  Gilbert,  that  scientist  readily  confirmed 

299 


300  FARMER  BIBBINS 

the  Jew's  statements.  The  Elder  had  disappeared, 
a  new  and  worthy  man  was  appointed  to  the  vacancy, 
and  the  matter  was  forced  into  rest,  though  Mr.  Por- 
ter longed  to  put  his  official  hands  upon  the  one  who 
had  started  all  the  trouble. 

Mrs.  Bibbins  and  Mose  were  sitting  in  a  protected 
cosy  corner  of  the  porch,  where  the  sun  shone  full  and 
warm  upon  them.  They  were  watching  the  men  put 
the  last  of  the  purlines  in  position  on  the  factory  frame, 
when  Mr.  Porter  and  Dr.  Gilbert  drove  into  the  yard. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Bibbins,"  said  Mr.  Porter, 
lifting  his  hat  to  Frances  "and  Mr.  Goldsborough, 
I  hope  you  are  better?  I  was  in  Madran  on  business," 
he  continued  without  waiting  for  a  reply  to  his  greet- 
ings, "and  Dr.  Gilbert  asked  me  if  I  would  like  to 
come  out  with  him  and  witness  the  'raising,'  "  looking 
beyond  the  porch  to  the  busy  groups  of  workers  on  the 
timbers.  "I  see  we  are  too  late,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  but 
when  you  have  the  'warming'  if  you  will  honor  us,  I 
assure  you  that  I  will  be  on  time  and  bring  my  wife  and 
daughter.  May  I  hope  that  you  will  not  forget  us?" 

"You  certainly  may,  Mr.  Porter.  We  shall  be  de- 
lighted to  have  Mrs.  and  Miss  Porter,  and  yourself, 
and  anyone  else  whom  you  would  like  to  bring.  Will 
you  two  gentlemen  come  up  and  sit  with  us?  This  is 
cosy  here,  and  there  is  lots  of  room  for  a  couple  more 
chairs." 

"Thank  you,  I  will.  Dr.  Gilbert  however  has  a 
word  for  Mr.  Bibbins,  I  believe,  so  I'll  sit  with  you 
while  he  is  thus  engaged,"  ascending  the  steps  and 
shaking  hands  with  them.  "I  hope  that  you  are  im- 
proving, Mr.  Goldsborough?"  inquiringly. 

"I  am  no  worse,  thank  you,  though  I  cannot  say  that 
I  am  better.  My  daughter  here,  Mrs.  Bippins,  is  all 
that  keeps  me  up,"  he  said  with  a  bow  to  the  lady. 


MR.  PORTER  CALLS  ON  HIS  CLIENT  301 

"Indeed,  I  am  happy  to  know  that  she  can.  By  the 
way  Mrs.  Bibbins,  I  understand  you  have  taken  Mrs. 
Coffee  in,  so  you  are  to  be  a  refuge  for  the  homeless 
as  well  as  a  hospital  I  see." 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Coffee  is  my  right  hand  with  all  these 
men  and  doings.  I  could  never  arrive  anywhere  with 
the  work  of  this  big  house  if  it  were  not  for  her. 
She's  a  lovely  woman,  Mr.  Porter,  and  I  think  she  is 
happy  for  the  first  time  in  years.  Actually  in  her  hap- 
piness she  is  regaining  her  one-time  beauty." 

"Has  she  never  heard  from  the  Elder?" 

"Only  indirectly.  She  hopes  to  be  divorced  from 
him  later,  and  I  am  not  sure  but  that  she  will  want  to 
have  you  look  after  her  interests  for  her.  She  is  away 
at  one  of  the  neighbors'  just  now,  but  may  I  tell  her 
that  you  will  help  her,  Mr.  Porter?" 

"You  may,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  I  shall  be  happy  to  secure 
her  release  from  that  man.  Here  comes  Gilbert,  we 
have  to  leave  at  once.  Good  by  Mrs.  Bibbins,  good 
by  Mr.  Goldsborough,  here  are  the  papers  you  asked 
for,"  giving  him  a  large  envelope.  "Don't  forget  the 
'factory  warming,'  Mrs.  Bibbins,"  he  added,  and  was 
gone  with  Dr.  Gilbert,  who  shouted  his  good  by  and 
waved  his  hand  as  he  drove  away. 

"Did  you  secure  his  signature,  Doctor,  without  dis- 
closing my  errand  here?" 

"Yes,  he  simply  signed,  asking  no  questions;  I  wait- 
ed until  a  moment  when  I  knew  he  would  be  busy  and 
couldn't  stop  to  talk,  though  he  would  trust  me  as  I 
would  him.  If  he  had  asked  me  to  give  him  my  name 
as  I  just  asked  for  his  I  don't  think  I  should  give  it 
another  thought.  He  feels  the  same  toward  me  I  am 
sure." 

"Good,  I  gave  Mose  the  duplicates  for  his  wife  to 
sign.  He  will  manage  it  some  way.  My!  but 


302  FARMER  BIBBINS 

going  to  be  a  surprise  in  this  community  before  long 
and  I  only  hope  my  client  will  live  to  see  it.  What  do 
you  think,  Doctor?  Has  he  a  chance?" 

"He  may.  I  doubt  it  however.  It  will  take  two 
months  to  finish  the  factory  at  the  least;  perhaps  ten 
weeks,  and  Mose  will  never  last  more  than  two  months 
if  he  does  that." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"There  is  but  one  preventative." 

"And  that?" 

"His  own  ego.  By  sheer  force  of  will,  if  he  wants 
to,  he  may  hold  out  several  months.  On  the  other 
hand  should  he  desire  to  die  as  sincerely  as  most  peo- 
ple desire  to  live,  he  wouldn't  last  a  week." 

"Then  why  do-  you  expect  Mose  to  linger  but  two 
months?" 

"Because  his  ego  has  so  determined.  He  wants  to 
live  just  long  enough  after  the  factory  is  built  to  ar- 
range his  own  matters  with  Farmer  Bibbins  and  his 
wife,  and  then — go.  Unless  something  interferes  to 
delay  the  work  on  the  one  hand,  or  some  unusual  de- 
velopment of  his  illness  hastens  his  dissolution  on  the 
other,  he  will  succeed  in  that  for  he  possesses  the  most 
indomitable  will  of  any  man  I  ever  knew.  I  am  quite 
positive  that  Mose  has  his  stay  figured  down  to  a  mat- 
ter of  days,  and  that  his  calculations  are  true,  provided 
nothing  delays  the  factory  at  the  last." 

"I  think  you  are  right,  Doctor.  He  told  me  a  mo- 
ment ago  that  it  was  Mrs.  Bibbins  who  kept  him  up, 
but  that  is  an  affirmation  of  your  theory." 

"Yes,  that  is  the  material  fact  of  my  theory.  You 
see  his  one  impelling  desire  includes  Mrs.  Bibbins. 
She  is  his  desire.  You  remember  it  was  he  who  asked 
Wood  to  give  you  power  of  attorney  to  look  after  the 
financial  end  of  his  present  affairs  to  save  him  the  trou- 


MR.  PORTER  CALLS  ON  HIS  CLIENT  303 

ble  of  going  to  the  city  so  often  and  then  he  arranged 
with  you  to  settle  all  of  Wood's  accounts  from  his  own 
funds.  And  Farmer  Bibbins  has  been  so  busy  with  the 
preparation  of  his  lumber,  the  construction  of  the  fac- 
tory, and  the  installing  of  the  power  plant  beneath  it, 
that  I  warrant  you  he  has  never  given  the  matter  a 
thought.  I  know  he  thinks  his  checks  are  paying  the 
bills,  for  I  heard  him  tell  his  wife  a  few  days  ago  that 
he  would  have  to  make  another  loan  at  the  bank  before 
long,"  and  they  both  laughed. 

"I've  got  every  check  he  has  signed  for  the  factory 
expenses,  and  have  issued  others  against  Mr.  Golds- 
borough's  account  to  settle  Farmer  Bibbins'  bills. 
Sometimes  I  actually  feel  guilty,  Doctor,  and  did  I  not 
know  absolutely  that  these  men  are  as  far  above  re- 
proach as  I  want  people  to  believe  that  I  am  myself, 
I  would  simply  drop  the  matter  now.  It's  a  most  ex- 
traordinary experience,  I  assure  you." 

"It  is,  but  they  are  most  extraordinary  people.  Why, 
you  don't  know  the  half  of  it,  Porter.  Let  me  make 
things  clear  while  we  are  on  the  road;  for  years  Farm- 
er Bibbins  has  seen  the  necessity  of  a  dairy  product 
factory  in  this  community,  and  the  particular  advan- 
tage of  having  it  on  the  identical  spot  where  it  is  to 
stand.  But  owing  to  his  unusual  prosperity,  of  which 
some  were  jealous,  and  a  fear  of  his  financial  integrity 
which  prevented  others,  he  could  never  secure  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  patrons.  When  Mose  was  injured  last 
summer,  he  took  care  of  him  nights  and  spent  his  days 
talking  factory  and  signing  contracts  with  his  neigh- 
bors for  their  milk.  He  gave  himself  sixty  days,  dur- 
ing which  if  he  failed  to  secure  a  sufficient  number  of 
patrons  to  warrant  his  building  and  enable  him  to  sup- 
ply the  market  he  had  secured,  he  would  simply  ab- 
rogate them,  and  give  it  up.  Well  like  most  men  of 


304  FARMER  BIBBINS 

simple  honesty,  he  assumed  about  all  of  the  responsi- 
bility, though  the  neighbors  would  gain  even  more  than 
himself.  He  offered  a  large  bonus  in  case  of  failure 
on  his  part  to  take  the  milk  after  a  certain  date.  He 
had  to  do  it  on  account  of  the  agent  at  the  Milk  Sta- 
tion— where  they  sold  their  milk  for  shipment— ask- 
ing for  a  renewal  of  contracts  at  about  the  same  time 
for  the  next  season.  Should  they  sign  with  Bibbins 
the  Station  would  go  under  or  remove.  Then  if  Bib- 
bins  failed  they  would  have  their  supply  on  their  own 
individual  hands.  Wood  struggled  hard,  finally  suc- 
ceeding in  getting  something  like  forty  signers.  Now 
his  contracts  in  New  York  called  for  dairy  products 
manufactured  in  a  factory  built  of  certain  material, 
and  machinery  for  butter-making  to  be  made  of  cer- 
tain wood— beech  and  white  birch,  I  think.  That  was 
because  most  wood  will  leave  the  taint  of  its  own  fibre 
in  the  butter,  but  beech  and  white  birch  I  believe  will 
not  if  properly  prepared.  Here  again  he  would  be 
a  loser  should  he  fail  in  fulfilling  his  contracts  with  his 
buyers,  for  he  had  to  secure  them  with  bonds  also. 

"Now  it  takes  about  so  many  months  to  prepare  the 
timbers,  and  such  a  quantity  of  these  kinds  is  scarce. 
Well,  he  got  out  the  logs,  hauled  them  to  the  sawmill 
run  by  Matthew  Lowton,  who  agreed  to  have  the  lum- 
ber ready  by  a  certain  date.  On  that  date  Wood  sent  his 
team  for  it  and  not  a  stick  of  it  was  cut.  Matt  had 
skipped  out,  and  his  father,  Hogarth  Lowton,  refused 
to  cut  them  for  him ;  nor  would  he  permit  him  to  get  a 
man  to  run  the  mill  on  his  own  account.  Then  Wood 
tried  everywhere  to  see  if  he  couldn't  buy  the  lumber. 
He  drove  for  days,  but  not  a  suitable  board  could  he 
find.  The  last  day  for  abrogating  the  contracts  was  at 
hand,  so  back  to  Hog —  (we  called  him  Hog  for 
short)  —old  man  Lowton— went  Wood,  then  came  the 


MR.  PORTER  CALLS  ON  HIS  CLIENT  305 

climax!  Now  the  contracts  for  the  milk  read  sixty 
days,  and  in  some  way  Farmer  Bibbins  had  come  to 
consider  this  as  meaning  the  last  day  of  the  month, 
while  it  really  meant  the  3Oth.  It  was  Lowton  who 
told  him  of  his  error  and  how  he,  Lowton,  had  aided 
in  keeping  that  error  alive  by  casually  talking  with 
everybody  about  the  first  instead  of  the  thirtieth  until 
it  was  in  everybody's  mind.  Bibbins  was  crushed. 

"When  he  came  home  to  his  wife,  the  man  cried  like 
—well  he  cried  like  a  man,  understand?  He  felt  worse 
because  he  was  sure  that  some  of  his  neighbors,  who 
did  not  have  so  many  things  on  their  minds,  must  have 
seen  his  error  of  calculating  the  date  and  purposely  re- 
frained from  setting  him  right.  And  so  they  had, 
chiefly  that  big  Bert  Simmons.  No,  don't  misjudge 
Simmons,  but  he,  to  fool  Bony  (another  name  for  Low- 
ton)  said  nothing  to  Farmer  Bibbins,  but  secured  the 
approval  of  the  contractors,  and  then  sent  a  letter  by 
the  stagedriver  to  be  mailed  at  Riverton.  He,  the 
driver,  remarked  to  Lowton  on  the  imbecility  of  Bert 
writing  when  he  lived  so  near  Bibbins.  Bony  was  sus- 
picious, and  offered  to  take  the  letter  to  Wood  at  once, 
as  he  was  driving  to  Madran.  There  being  no  stamp 
on  the  letter,  the  driver  delivered  it  to  Lowton,  and  he 
opened  and  read  it.  It  never  reached  Bibbins.  Hence 
his  failure  to  abrogate  the  contracts — which  he  had 
intended  to  do  the  day  following  his  interview  with 
Lowton,  who  at  that  time  informed  him  that  it  was  too 
late;  also  acknowledged  his  own  efforts  in  keeping 
alive  the  self-deception  of  Farmer  Bibbins  by  talking 
the  first  day  of  the  month  instead  of  the  thirtieth  with 
everybody  he  met. 

"Now  here  is  Wood's  revenge.  To  get  even  with 
Lowton  who  died  from  shock  the  day  his  buildings 
burned,  Wood  took  the  corpse  and  Mrs.  Lowton  to  his 


3o6  FARMER  BIBBINS 

own  house ;  arranged^  for  the  funeral ;  had  the  Lowton 
boys  drive  their  cattle  over  to  his  barns;  fed  them 
till  they  were  sold;  gave  work  to  all  three  boys,  and 
still  has  the  old  mother  in  his  house  where  she  has 
been  since  the  day  her  husband  died.  That's  Wood's 
way  of  taking  revenge !"  proudly. 

"Then  through  the  machinations  of  Elder  Coffee, 
who  was  mixed  up  with  the  Lowtons,  young  Ralph  was 
injured  and  after  I  set  his  leg  he  asked  me  to  have 
Farmer  Bibbins  come  to  see  him  at  Mr.  Kendall's. 
Bibbins  went,  learned  who  Ralph  was,  and  took  him 
home  also,  (though  he  would  have  done  it  anyway 
had  it  been  necessary,  and  so  would  his  wife)  and  then 
after  Coffee  skipped  he  sent  Mrs.  Bibbins  over  to  see 
Mrs.  Coffee.  They  brought  her  home  and  she  has 
known,  under  their  roof,  the  first  happy  days  in  her 
life  since  she  married  the  Elder.  That's  the  sort  of  a 
man  Farmer  Bibbins  is,  and  he  has  but  one  peer  in  all 
this  county,  Porter." 

"And  who  is  he?" 

"There  isn't  any  he,  it's  his  wife,  Frances." 

"Your  admiration  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bibbins,  Dr. 
Gilbert,  is  little  if  any  greater  than  my  own.  Frances 
Bibbins  is  the  first  woman  I  ever  met  who  seemed  to 
me  the  peer  of  Mrs.  Porter,  and  Wood  is  certainly 
superb.  But  you  will  pardon  me  if  what  I  am  on  the 
point  of  asking  seems  a  bit  impertinent,  but  your  rela- 
tion to  and  interest  in,  these  people — especially  with 
reference  to  all  that  has  happened  since  the  injury  to 
Mr.  Goldsborough  and  the  several  crimes  connected 
therewith  — for  I  assure  you  that  I  know  pretty  much 
all  you  have  done,  Doctor,  even  to  the  banishing  of 
Elder  Coffee"— he  looked  at  the  doctor  and  laughed 
and  was  just  a  little  surprised  at  first  to  see  the  doctor 
mutually  share  in  the  humor  of  it  with  no  trace  of  em- 


MR.  PORTER  CALLS  ON  HIS  CLIENT  307 

barrassment. 

"But  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  have  no  basis  for  an  idea, 
much  less  the  idea  itself,  why  you  have  done  what  you 
have  and  in  the  way  you  have  done  it.  If  it  isn't  im- 
pertinent, and  as  a  salve  for  my  own  conscience — for 
if  the  public  knew  why  I  have  allowed  all  this  to  hap- 
pen with  no  effort  to  punish  the  guilty  I  could  never 
be  elected  Judge,  which  I  frankly  hope  to  be— will  you 
give  me  your  motive?  It  shall  be  as  sacredly  sheltered 
as  my  honor.  If  there  is  a  reason  why  you  cannot,  for- 
give and  forget  my  impertinence." 

Dr.  Gilbert  was  profoundly  thoughtful  for  a  mo- 
ment. 

"I  have  no  objection  whatever,  Mr.  Porter.  I  once 
promised  young  Ralph  I  would  tell  him,  though  if  he 
never  refers  to  it  I  shall  not.  His,  Ralph's,  mother 
and  I  were  one  time  engaged  to  marry.  When  I  was 
in  college,  Ralph,  Sr.,  a  teacher  in  a  young  ladies'  semi- 
nary where  she  was  a  student,  induced  her  to  run  away 
with  him.  They  were  secretely  married  and  went 
West.  I  have  never  cared  in  the  same  way  for  any 
other  woman  since." 

There  was  a  long  pause  during  which  the  only  sound 
was  the  patter  of  the  mare's  feet  and  the  rattle  of  the 
wheels  on  the  hard  road.  Mr.  Porter  turned  to  Dr. 
Gilbert  with  outstretched  hand; 

"Forgive  me,  Doctor,  I  never  dreamed  it  was  that." 

Dr.  Gilbert  took  the  hand,  and  while  he  spoke  no 
word  Mr.  Porter  knew  by  that  act  that  pardon  was 
granted. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  DEDICATION  OF  THE  FACTORY 

"  "W  "IT  "T"  ELL,  Charles,  everything  is  ready  for 

%  \  I    the  ball,  I  see?" 
W*  \^          "Yes  sir,  how  do  you  like  it?" 
*     •  "Fine,  couldn't  be  improved;  where's 

everybody?" 

"Eating  supper.  I  just  finished.  I've  been  too  ex- 
cited to  eat.  Do  you  know  what  all  this  means  to  me, 
Doctor?" 

"I  do  not  Charles,  tell  me." 

"The  Boss  is  going  to  send  me  to  college  this  fall!" 

"What's  that?  Send  you  to  college?  I  thought 
I-" 

"That's  all  right,  Doctor.  He  knows  and  he  told 
me  he  would  fix  it  up  with  you,  and  you're  going  to  do 
it  between  you.  I'll  need  you  both  before  I  am 
through,"  laughing  good  naturedly. 

Dr.  Gilbert  and  Charles  were  standing  in  the  center 
of  the  main  floor  of  the  completed  factory,  the  walls 
of  which  were  literally  covered  with  flags,  bunting, 
garlands  and  wild-flowers. 

"Charles,"  said  Dr.  Gilbert,  after  inspecting  the 
entire  building,  "I  believe  Farmer  Bibbins  and  his 
wife  are  finally  happy;  what  do  you  think?" 

"They've  always  been  that,  Doctor,  but  I  guess  they 
are  about  as  happy  as  people  can  be  now.  Excuse  me, 
Doctor,  you'll  find  everybody  in  the  house.  I've  got 
to  oil  up  the  dynamo,  and  put  in  a  few  incandescent 
globes  for  Ward.  He's  going  to  run  the  power  part. 
Hello,  there  are  the  Porters,"  looking  from  the  north 

308 


DEDICATION  OF  THE  FACTORY    309 

window.     "Well  Lord  love  you,  Doctor,  look  at  that!" 

"What?" 

"Why  the  band  from  Riverton.  The  Boss  wrote 
Mr.  Porter  to  send  out  a  good  orchestra  and  he's  sent 
the  whole  city  band,  in  full  dress  uniform,  too.  Hur- 
rah for  everything,  and  everybody,"  and  the  young 
lad,  for  the  moment  forgetting  dynamo,  globes,  etc., 
dashed  down  the  lane  to  open  the  big  gate  and  welcome 
the  two  large  carryalls  which  were  bringing  the  mu- 
sicians. Before  he  reached  the  gate,  the  leader  saw 
him,  gave  the  word,  and  the  strains  of  "We  won't  go 
home  'till  morning,"  filled  the  surrounding  country 
with  its  gay  air. 

It  was  an  hour  later,  just  when  darkness  was  set- 
tling down  upon  the  world,  that  Frances  Bibbins  with 
Wood,  Dr.  Gilbert,  Bert,  and  Mrs.  Simmons  and 
Mose  standing  by  in  the  darkness  of  the  little  room, 
—held  sacred  to  her  personal  use— and  with  the 
friends  and  neighbors  surrounding  them  in  the  other 
rooms  likewise  in  darkness,  touched  the  promised  and 
prophesied  button  and  flooded  the  house  with  light  1  In- 
stantly the  band  stationed  on  the  front  veranda  broke 
into  the  world  loved  melody,  "Home,  Sweet  Home," 
and  as  soon  as  their  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the 
brilliant  light  there  was  a  general  all-round  hand  shak- 
ing. Mose,  who  lay  in  his  invalid  chair  near  Frances 
and  Wood,  was  a  much  sought-after  person  and  shared 
with  the  others  in  the  mutual  congratulation.  His  en- 
ervation was  so  great  that  he  made  no  effort  to  reply 
save  by  a  nod,  and  when  Frances  stooped  and  kissed 
him  on  the  forehead,  the  tears  streamed  down  his 
pallid  cheek. 

"May  the  God  of  my  fathers  and  yours  be  ever 
with  you,  my  daughter,"  he  stammeringly  whispered. 
"Now  lead  your  guests  to  the  factory." 


3io  FARMER  BIBBINS 

The  procession  was  formed  and  started.  Just  as 
Wood  and  Frances,  leading  the  long  line,  came  to  the 
brink  of  the  gently  inclining  bank  leading  down  to  the 
main  entrance  of  the  factory  the  building  burst  into 
light.  The  band,  which  had  taken  its  place  inside, 
played  an  appropriate  air.  It  took  the  combined  sup- 
port of  her  own  and  her  husband's  will,  which  he 
threw  about  her  like  an  all  inveiling  garment,  to  keep 
Frances  from  breaking  down  from  the  sheer  strain  of 
the  joy  which  filled  her  heart.  On  coming  onto  the 
main  floor  they  noticed  that  Dr.  Gilbert,  Mr.  Porter 
and  Mr.  Simmons,  stood  on  some  kind  of  an  improvis- 
ed platform — the  origin  of  which  was  unknown  to 
them — placed  at  one  end  of  the  building.  The  lawyer 
and  Dr.  Gilbert  stepped  down  to  lead  Farmer  Bibbins 
and  Frances  to  a  couple  of  chairs  arranged  like  two 
thrones  on  a  dais. 

"What  does  it  mean,  Wood?"  his  wife  whispered  to 
him;  to  which  he  replied, — 

"In  the  words  of  Mr.  Simmons  there,  Til  be  gol 
derned  'f  I  know.'  " 

Having  ushered  them  to  their  seats,  Mr.  Porter 
stepped  to  one  corner  of  the  platform,  raised  a  hand 
to  command  quiet,  then  facing  about  said; — 

"Frances  and  Farmer  Bibbins;  you  will  pardon  me 
for  thus  addressing  you  in  the  presence  of  all  these 
your  friends  and  neighbors,"  turning  to  the  crowd  for 
a  moment  with  an  including  gesture,  "but  as  Frances 
has  ever  been  first  in  the  heart  of  Wood,  and  Wood 
has  been  all  in  all  in  the  heart  of  Frances,  I  see  no 
other  way  of  meeting  and  fulfilling  the  requirements 
of  my  instructions.  While  each  and  every  one  here  is 
more  or  less  vitally  interested  in  what  I  am  about  to 
say,  you  friends  of  Farmer  Bibbins  and  his  beautiful 
wife  will  also  pardon  me  if  I  am  keeping  you  from 


DEDICATION  OF  THE  FACTORY     311 

the  object  of  your  assembling." 

"The  fact  is,  I  am  laboring  under  great  embarrass- 
ment, and  I  assure  you  I  have  a  reason.  For  while  I 
have  been  most  untrustworthy  to  the  letter  of  the  law 
in  robbing  a  man  of  his  property,  I  can  assure  you  one 
and  all,"  bowing  to  Wood  and  Frances,  and  then  to 
the  crowd  before  him,  "that  in  its  spirit  I  think  it  is 
the  most  praiseworthy  act  of  my  professional  career. 
In  my  conscience  I  shall  ever  regard  it  as  the  one  piece 
of  law  which  has  leavened  the  whole  measure  of  my 
practice." 

"Some  months  ago,  my  friend  Dr.  Gilbert  and  my- 
self called  here  with  the  apparent  object  of  watching 
some  of  you  men  assist  in  raising  the  frame  of  this 
building.  That  work  was  all  but  completed  when  we 
reached  here,  but  as  we  remained  but  a  few  minutes 
our  expressed  object  was  open  to  a  suspicion,  which  to 
the  best  of  my  knowledge,  was  never  raised." 

"Farmer  Bibbins,  do  you  remember  on  that  occasion 
signing  certain  papers  handed  to  you  by  Dr.  Gilbert?" 
facing  Wood. 

"I  hardly  remember,  Mr.  Porter,  though  now  you 
speak  of  it,  I  do  recall  something  of  the  kind." 

"Mrs.  Bibbins,"  now  facing  Frances,  "do  you  re- 
member an  envelope  containing  papers  which  I  handed 
to  Mr.  Goldsborough  that  same  day,  and  your  signing 
those  same  papers  a  few  days  later  apparently  as  a 
witness  to  Mr.  Goldsborough's  signature?" 

Frances  nodded,  for  she  could  not  speak. 

"These  are  the  papers,"  taking  a  large  bundle  from 
an  inner  pocket  which  you  both  signed  in  duplicate. 
"I  will  place  them  in  your  hands,  Farmer  Bibbins,  as 
an  assurance  of  honest  intent,  and  if  after  you  have 
heard  me  explain  their  contents  you  are  unwilling  to 
abide  by  their  terms,  you  may  keep  or  destroy  them  as 


312  FARMER  BIBBINS 

you  please,  releasing  you  from  every  obligation." 

"These  papers  I  have  just  given  to  our  friend  are 
of  a  legal  character  and  absolutely  binding  upon  him 
and  his  wife  to  give  in  trust  for  a  period  of  ten  years, 
dating  from  the  first  day  of  next  month,  all  the  rights, 
options,  and  benefits— save  the  actual  ownership— 
of  this  plant  to  the  original  signers  of  the  contracts 
for  milk,  with  the  definite  agreement  that  its  manage- 
ment remains  with  its  owner,  the  profits  to  be  divided 
pro  rata  among  the  signers." 

At  this  moment  Wood  and  Frances  looked  at  Dr. 
Gilbert  with  what  might  have  been  called  the  inquiry 
of  astonishment.  But  he  only  smiled  and  nodded  to- 
ward Mr.  Porter,  and  they  turned  to  listen  to  the  lat- 
ter as  he  continued:  — 

"Early  in  the  beginning  of  actual  construction  work, 
our  friend  Mr.  Goldsborough  induced  your  neighbor," 
indicating  Wood  by  a  gesture,  "to  place  the  financial 
end  of  his  business  in  my  hands,  giving  me  a  power  of 
attorney  to  transact  all  business  for  him  save  the  signing 
of  checks.  These  he  regularly  signed  and  gave  them 
to  me  to  fill  in  as  occasion  demanded.  Those  checks, 
my  friends,  were  never  used  for  the  payment  of  the 
bills  growing  out  of  this  undertaking,"  pointing  to  the 
building,  "nor  for  anything  else  for  they  are  now  in 
his  possession  just  as  he  gave  them  to  me,  being  a  part 
of  that  package." 

"The  bills  have  been  paid  nevertheless,  every  one 
of  them,  and  I  know  that  Fanner  Bibbins  owes  no 
man,  woman,  or  child,  a  penny  for  anything  he  calls 
his  own,  he  can  quickly  prove  this  fact  by  inspecting  the 
papers  in  his  hands.  The  credit  of  this  great  bene- 
fit," again  referring  to  the  factory,  "is  entirely  due  to 
Farmer  Bibbins  and  his  wife.  The  expenses— un- 
known to  him,  as  the  origin  of  this  still  greater  bene- 


DEDICATION  OF  THE  FACTORY    313 

fit  conferred  upon  this  community  (the  profits  of  which 
every  patron  will  mutually  share,)— have  been  met  by 
that  grand  old  man  whom  you  have  for  years  in  all 
respect  called  'Mose,  the  peddler.'  " 

Until  this  moment,  there  had  been  absolute  silence; 
a  silence  filled  with  expectancy  and  apprehension,  but 
at  the  mention  of  the  peddler's  name  such  a  mighty 
shout  arose  that  the  very  building  seemed  to  "Hurrah" 
like  a  living  giant.  When  the  shouting  and  hand- 
clapping,  foot-stamping  and  back-slapping,  had  sub- 
sided, Mr.  Porter  continued;— 

"In  lieu  of  your  granting  the  terms  imposed,  Farm- 
er Bibbins,  which  you  understand  is  entirely  optional 
with  you,  (for  you  have  every  paper  bearing  your  sig- 
nature) you  will — " 

"Just  a  moment,  Mr.  Porter!"  It  was  Wood  who 
spoke.  "Before  you  utter  another  word,  permit  me  to 
return  these  papers  to  you,  an  act  in  which  my  wife 
fully  concurs,  and — " 

But  he  got  no  further,  for  at  this  moment  a  vibrant 
voice,  which  fairly  drowned  every  other  sound  or  trem- 
ulous echo,  was  heard  to  say;— 

"Fl  be  gol  derned  'f  I  kin  stan'  this  eny  longer 
'thout  warblin'  sum.  Let  her  go!"  and  Mr.  Simmons 
swung  his  hand  in  the  air  and  led  such  a  mighty  cheer 
for  Farmer  and  Frances  Bibbins  that  the  cattle  on  the 
distant  hills  were  roused  into  fright  and  fled  to  the 
farthest  limits  of  their  pastures. 

Again  when  quiet  was  restored,  Mr.  Porter  spoke; 

"In  lieu  of  your  concurrence,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  I  am 
authorized  by  your  community's  benefactor,"  taking 
another  smaller  package  from  his  pocket,  and  turning 
to  Frances,  "to  perform  another  service,  equally  pleas- 
urable, and  that  you  all  may  share  in  the  knowledge  of 
the  good  fortune  which  has  come  to  one  of  your  neigh- 


314  FARMER  BIBBINS 

bors  as  you  all  are  sharing  in  the  good  fortune  you 
are  receiving  from  her  own  and  her  husband's  hands, 
let  me  say,  (though  I  am  not  authorized  to  do  so  pub- 
licly) that  these  papers,"  holding  them  up  where  all 
could  see  them,  uare  also  of  a  legal  character  and  quite 
irrevocable.  They  give  in  deed  and  in  title  outright 
and  forever,  every  right,  title,  and  benefit,  of  owner- 
ship to  the  beautiful  house  on  Ten  Eyck  street,  (but  a 
door  or  so  from  my  own  dwelling)  in  Riverton,  to  the 
equally  beautiful  woman,  who  is,  after  all  other  be- 
quests and  legacies  are  satisfied,  the  residuary  legatee 
of  the  donor's  will  which  disposes  of  a  considerable 
estate.  I  refer  to  Frances,  wife  of  Farmer  W.  H.  Bib- 
bins  !"  placing  the  papers  in  her  trembling  hand.  Then 
before  anyone  had  recovered  from  the  overwhelming 
spirit  to  which  the  words  and  the  gifts  had  given  birth, 
Mr.  Porter  said:  — 

"Now  then,  'On  with  the  dance,  let  joy  be  uncon- 
fined,'  "  signalling  the  band  to  strike  up,  so  that  neither 
Frances  nor  Wood  could  be  given  an  opportunity  to 
speak  until  they  had  a  chance  to  regain  a  calmer  re- 
pose of  mind  and  spirit. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
MOSE  SETTLES  ms  ACCOUNT 


I 


days  later,  when  on  returning  to  the 
little  room  in  the  house  from  the  garden 
where  in  the  shade  of  a  sturdy  maple  they 
had  laid  to  rest  the  mortal  body  of  Mose  the 
peddler,  Wood  took  Frances  into  his  arms,  her  tears 
mingled  with  his  in  grief  for  the  loss  of  their  good 
friend  who  had  made  them  his  principal  heirs. 

"Don't  cry,  little  girl,"  he  said  after  a  while  when 
her  sobbing  grew  less  acute,  though  the  tears  were 
still  rolling  down  his  own  cheeks.  "No  man  ever  was 
more  fit  to  die  than  Mose.  His  race  has  never  furn- 
ished, but  one  better  man,  as  the  Rabbi  said  in  his 
address,  'The  God  of  All  was  in  his  life  as  He  was 
in  the  person  of  the  Great  Nazarene.'  His  faith  was 
sublime,  as  this  letter  he  left  you  proves." 

He  took  a  letter  from  a  little  stand  near  by  and 
seating  his  wife  on  his  knee,  read;— 

"To  my  beloved  friends;  not  one  jot  or  tittle  of  my 
love  for  those  who— when  they  took  me  in,  a  stranger 
—will  abate  during  the  years  remaining  until  our 
Father  Abraham,  a  Type  of  God  in  the  Gospel,  gives 
you  place  in  His  bosom  by  my  side.  And  until  that 
day  comes  I  only  ask  that  your  faith  to  the  trust  I  leave 
with  you  will  be  like  unto  the  trust  your  faith  made 
beautiful  to  me  at  the  end.  May  the  God  of  our  Fath- 
ers be  with  you,  until  you  can  be  with  me.  Mose." 

That  evening  about  an  hour  before  sunset,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Porter  drove  into  the  Bibbins  yard.  They  had 
attended  the  funeral  that  morning,  but  owing  to  Mr. 

315 


3i6  FARMER  BIBBINS 

Porter's  duties  had  been  compelled  to  return  to  the 
city.  Being  wholly  unexpected  there  was  no  one  to 
greet  them  at  the  house,  and  only  a  few  workmen  at 
the  factory,  so  they  went  on  to  the  barn  in  search  of 
Mrs.  Bibbins.  Their  carriage  was  left  standing  by  the 
block  near  the  side-porch,  so  none  of  the  people  in  the 
stable  were  aware  of  their  presence.  After  a  little 
search  aided  by  the  sounds  which  reached  him,  Mr. 
Porter  found  Farmer  Bibbins  and  his  wife  with  the 
farm  hands,  in  the  stable,  milking.  He  conversed  for 
a  moment  with  his  wife  and  then,  fearful  of  embar- 
rassing Mrs.  Bibbins,  they  returned  to  the  house  and 
sat  down  on  the  porch  to  wait.  It  was  not  long  before 
Wood  and  Frances  greeted  them  from  the  doorway 
just  behind  them. 

"I  am  sorry  we  have  kept  you  waiting,  good  people, 
we  are  considerably  later  than  usual.  But  I  am  so  glad 
you  have  come.  I  was  so  lonesome  I  went  out  and 
helped  the  men  milk.  I  do  miss  my  old  friend  so," 
said  Frances  wistfully.  "Won't  you  come  in?  We 
are  going  to  have  a  late  supper,  Wood  and  I.  Maggie 
has  it  nearly  ready  and  I  do  wish  you  would  join  us. 
It  will  be  so  nice,  just  us  four." 

She  looked  so  neat  and  dainty  as  she  greeted  them 
that  it  was  hard  to  believe  she  had  just  come  from  the 
stable. 

"We  shall  be  just  as  happy  to  join  you,  you  dear 
Frances,"  ("may  I  call  you  Frances?"  asked  Mrs.  Por- 
ter, "Thank  you,")  "as  you  are  to  have  us  I  am  sure; 
and  I,  for  one,  am  hungry,"  rising  and  kissing  her 
while  Wood  and  the  lawyer  stood  aside  talking. 

"Hullo,  here's  Doctor  Gilbert  just  in  time,"  called 
Wood  to  Frances  who  had  gone  in  with  Mrs.  Porter, 
"put  on  another  plate,  wife.  It  must  be  that  the  spirit 
of  the  dead  is  calling  his  friends  together,"  he  con- 


MOSE  SETTLES  HIS  ACCOUNT      317 

eluded,  reverently  facing  the  lawyer. 

"Yes,  it  does,  I  am  glad  it  has  called  Gilbert.  I 
like  Gilbert,  Farmer  Bibbins.  He's  all  Man." 

"Yes,  what  isn't  all  boy!  Did  he  ever  tell  you  the 
'Incident  of  the  Feather  Bed,'  and  explain  his  'Theory 
of  The  Left-Handed  Man?'  No?  Well  you  must 
make  him  recount  both  of  them  for  you  sometime,"  he 
said  with  another  laugh  at  Dr.  Gilbert  who  was  sitting 
in  his  carriage  where  he  could  hear  all  Wood  was  say- 
ing. Just  here,  the  ladies  reappeared  which  prevented 
a  retort  from  Dr.  Gilbert.  He  motioned  to  Charles 
to  come  and  take  the  rig,  as  that  youth  was  coming 
from  a  like  service  for  Mr.  Porter. 

"Good  evening,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  shaking 
hands  with  all,  said  Dr.  Gilbert.  "Is  supper  ready, 
Frances?  I'm  nearly  starved." 

"Yes,  and  you  are  just  in  time.  Come,  everybody," 
and  she  led  the  way  to  the  dining  room.  It  was  a  happy 
meal  notwithstanding  the  earlier  and  sad  ceremony  of 
the  day;  for  in  spite  of  the  traditional  atmosphere  of  a 
house  following  a  funeral,  none  of  them  seemed  to  feel 
that  it  was  right  or  possible  to  remain  indifferent  to 
the  influence  of  the  great  character  just  departed.  His 
spirit  seemed  to  linger  with  the  household,  and  though 
a  quiet  and  reserved  man  himself  Mose  had  always  re- 
joiced in  the  happiness  of  his  friends.  When  supper 
was  over  they  adjourned  to  the  lawn  with  its  rustic 
seats  and  soft  cushions. 

The  ladies  talked  like  old  friends  about  subjects  in 
which  the  men  seemed  to  take  little  interest,  though 
Wood  could  not  have  told  why.  Still  in  deference 
they  offered  no  interruptions,  but  sat  quietly  smoking 
the  cigars  Wood  brought  out. 

"Come  you  men,"  said  Mrs.  Bibbins,  "why  don't 
you  help  us  poor  women  out,  we  don't  want  to  do  all 


3i8  FARMER  BIBBINS 

the  talking,  not  tonight  anyway.  Mr.  Porter,  it's  your 
turn  to  say  something,  if  only  to  stop  my  chatter." 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Bibbins,  I  can,  but  pardon  me,  you  are 
not  chattering.  A  lady  who  can  suddenly  inherit  a 
quarter  of  a  million  dollars,  and  on  the  first  night  of 
knowing  the  extent  of  her  fortune,  (for  I  suppose  that 
after  the  funeral  Wood  read  you  the  list  of  your  hold- 
ings, as  I  told  him  to)  can  help  her  husband  and  farm 
hands  do  the  milking,  never  chatters,  believe  me,"  he 
said  sincerely.  "Forgive  me,  Mrs.  Bibbins"  he  went 
on  hurriedly,  noticing  her  embarrassment,  "perhaps  I 
shouldn't  have  said  it  to  your  face,  but  my  wife,"  look- 
ing reproachfully  at  that  lady,  "said  it  behind  your 
back  while  we  were  waiting  for  you  there  on  the  porch. 
So  it  is  from  our  hearts  that  we  speak." 

"But  to  say  something  pleasant,"  smiling  at  her. 
"I  can  and  I  will.  I  am  here  this  evening,  as  Dr.  Gil- 
bert can  affirm,  upon  the  authority  of  many  leading 
men  of  Riverton  and  the  county,  as  well  as  by  the 
implied  requests  of  our  late  friend  and  my  client,  to 
ask  Mr.  Bibbins  to  make  you  the  wife  of  our  next  Con- 
gressman," pausing  a  while,  "to  be,"  he  added  as  he 
noticed  her  consternation  and  Wood's  bewilderment. 
"Now,  wait,  Farmer  Bibbins.  not  a  word  from  you  till 
I  am  through.  I  know  it's  'comin'  on't,  as  your  neigh- 
bor, Mr.  Simmons,  would  say,  pretty  sudden  over  you ; 
but  caucus  will  soon  be  upon  us,  and  we,  I  mean  the 
County  Committeemen,  of  our  party  have  simply  got 
to  know,  and  know  now,  what  to  expect.  They  are 
quite  unanimously  agreed  upon  you  Farmer  Bibbins, 
and  when  I  meet  with  them  tomorrow  morning  I  have 
to  present  your  answer.  We  delayed  asking  you  until 
you  were  liberated  from  your  other  duties.  What 
say  you?  Will  you  accept  the  nomination?" 

"Well,  Good  Lord!     Frances!     What  shall  I  do?" 


MOSE  SETTLES  HIS  ACCOUNT        319 

but  before  she  could  reply,  he  went  on,  "I  was  never 
so  rattled  in  my  life.  I  appreciate  the  honor,  Mr. 
Porter,  greatly,  but  I  am  absolutely  unfitted  for  such 
work,  I  don't  think  I  can." 

Mrs.  Porter  leaned  over  to  Frances. 

"Tell  him  to  accept,"  she  said.  "He's  an  ideal  man 
for  the  place  I  think,  and  my  husband  agrees  with  me." 

Frances  was  actually  terrified  for  a  moment,  then  as 
the  worth  and  merit  of  her  big  husband,  with  all  the 
many  possibilities  lying  in  an  energy  like  his,  came  to 
her  she  quickly  decided.  When  she  looked  up  and  saw 
Dr.  Gilbert's  eyes  fastened  upon  her,  and  his  nod  of 
approval,  she  said:— 

"Yes,  Wood,  take  it.  I  know  you  can  and  will  suc- 
ceed," and  she  threw  her  arms  about  him  and  kissed 
him  passionately  before  them  all. 

"That  settles  it,  wife;  it's  a  mighty  short  courtship, 
but  I  will  accept.  I  may  be  sorry  for  it  all  the  rest  of 
my  life  though  I've  never  regretted  taking  your  ad- 
vice yet,  so  what  Frances  says  goes,  Mr.  Porter.  I'll 
be  your  next  Congressman!" 

And  he  was ! 


A    000  071  252     1 


